The Epic Adventures of Emrys
by starwater13
Summary: Merlin is forced to reveal his magic, and a conflicted Arthur banishes him. As Merlin travels through Albion he learns about his magic, helps strangers, makes new friends and gets himself into hilarious situations, all while trying to protect Camelot from afar. How much trouble can one warlock get into? Full of bromance and BAMF!Merlin. Set after Season 4, not slash.
1. Merlin's Epic Mistake

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

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**Chapter 1: Merlin's Epic Mistake**

Merlin's first mistake was forgetting to do his laundry the day before. Perhaps if he had remembered to wash his clothes, he would have been wearing his blue neckerchief when the creature attacked.

As it was, he tied his red neckerchief (the only clean one he had left) around his neck that fateful morning, and rushed off with a grumble about royal prats and early mornings to Gaius, wearing a devious smile that thoroughly alarmed his guardian. Merlin had had a stroke of evil genius the night before, and had thought of a new and very entertaining way to get the king out of bed.

Because of his eagerness to try out his new and improved method of Arthur-baiting, and his somewhat late awakening, he left the physician's chambers without eating any breakfast. That was his second mistake. Perhaps, if he'd had a full stomach, he would have reacted more quickly when the creature attacked, but as it was he didn't even notice how light headed the lack of sustenance had made him until it was all over. After all, it wasn't unusual for him to skip a few meals. Merlin came from a poor farming village, and even in Camelot he was often too busy fighting off magical threats, doing chores for Gaius and cleaning Arthur's constantly dirty armor to eat as much as he should have.

His third mistake was forgetting to knock. It had been his routine to just burst into Arthur's chambers for so many years now that in his eagerness to try out his hilarious new idea, he forgot that Arthur was newly married. Even though Gwen had her own suite of rooms connected to the king's, the young couple often fell asleep together after engaging in… certain activities that Merlin would rather not think about two of his best friends engaging in. Not that he was squeamish about that sort of thing, he was just a little inexperienced, and well, it was _Gwen_, whom he thought of as a sister.

The same hectic lifestyle and overload of responsibilities that prevented him from eating regular meals also kept him from pursuing any relationships of the amorous variety, so when he burst in on Gwen waking "up" Arthur in a manner much more enjoyable than what Merlin had had planned, he couldn't prevent his face from blushing a very patriotic shade of Camelot crimson, from his sharply defined cheekbones all the way to the tops of his abnormally large ears. He immediately shut his eyes, trying to wipe the disturbing image from his brain, and tried to turn around, open the door and leave without opening his eyes again.

"S-sorry," he managed to stammer as he groped for the doorknob with one hand and balanced the tray filled with Arthur's breakfast (and a little something special) in the other. Gwen halted what she had been doing to gasp with surprise and grab at the bed sheets to cover them both. Arthur sat up with a growl and threw a goblet at Merlin's head (he missed, there obviously wasn't enough blood left in his brain for him to aim properly).

Merlin finally managed to open the door, but also managed to drop the cup that held Arthur's "special surprise", the giant black centipede that he had found in his chambers the night before. The stunned creature on the floor almost immediately got its numerous legs back underneath it and started scuttling away from Merlin and towards the bed. Arthur let out a distinctly un-kingly yelp and shot backwards.

There was a moment of silence, and then Gwen, partly out of embarrassment and partly at the look on Arthur's face, burst into uncontrollable giggles, and Merlin couldn't help but laugh as well. He would never forget the sight of his fearless and extremely manly king trying to escape from a little bitty centipede. After a few moments, he walked over and placed the breakfast tray on the table near the centre of the room, his eyes averted but his shoulders shaking with mirth.

Merlin restrained his laughter just long enough to say a far to cheery "Good morning, Sire!" and then made a run for the door.

Gwen, still chuckling but now wrapped in a dress made of bed sheets, scooped up the poor confused centipede and placed it outside on the window ledge, with all the calmness and practicality of a maidservant used to dealing with all manner of creepy crawlies.

Arthur, the battle hardened warrior, trained to kill since birth, was not amused. Centipedes unnerved him in a way that he was hard pressed to explain logically. They just… had too many legs. It was unnatural. Just watching one walk was enough to send shivers of revulsion down his spine. Merlin knew that. He glared at the door his manservant had just run through. Merlin had promised to take that secret to his grave, but now his wife knew, and Arthur was feeling less and less masculine every moment she laughed at him. The mood had very effectively been killed.

He was going to make Merlin regret even getting out of bed this morning.

* * *

Later that day, Merlin mused on the "incident" as he mucked out the stables. He knew that it was a little juvenile, but he hadn't actually been going to place the centipede _on_ Arthur, just on the bed next to him. What better way to wake up than with a jolt of adrenaline?

Ever since Agravaine's betrayal had become common knowledge, everyone had been walking on eggshells around the king, even Gwen. Merlin thought that a little practical joke was just what Arthur needed, to distract him and remind him that not everyone was wary of his anger. He needed a dose of normality and by teasing him Merlin was essentially declaring his loyalty and affection. He was showing Arthur that he saw him as more than just the king. Also, Merlin just enjoyed making Arthur angry.

Arthur had given him a list of chores designed to humiliate him as revenge for embarrassing him in front of his wife, seeing his wife naked and interrupting his early morning "activities". Nevermind that Arthur managed to embarrass himself in front of Gwen all the time, and she loved him anyway. Still, he supposed that he deserved a little punishment for forgetting to knock. He shuddered. He definitely wouldn't be making _that_ mistake again.

Because he was busy in the stables, and therefore separated from Arthur who was up on the battlements inspecting the guards, he didn't notice the creature winging its way towards the castle until it swooped in and blasted a guard with fire it snorted from its overlarge nostrils. When the warning bell started ringing, Merlin dropped his pitchfork and sprinted towards the source of the trouble, wondering what on earth could have gone wrong _this_ time, but he wasn't fast enough.

By the time he reached the battlements the creature had trapped Arthur against the edge of the wall, five stories above the courtyard. Half a dozen scarlet-cloaked guards lay thrown around the battlements, bodies marred by vicious burns and slashes. Arthur appeared to be mostly unharmed, and although he had somehow acquired a head wound that was dripping bright crimson blood all over his face, unfortunately for Merlin he was still conscious. Merlin realized why he was the only one still alive as the creature snorted flames at Arthur, only to have them somehow be deflected by the length of Excalibur's blade, which Arthur was holding in front of him in a desperate attempt to hold off the monster. Merlin made a mental note ask Kilgarrah about the fire-resistant properties of dragon-burnished blades.

The creature appeared to be a giant, muscular black bull with massive bat wings, and talons instead of hooves. To Merlin, it looked like something that had just flown out if a nightmare. It definitely wasn't a natural beast.

It all happened so quickly. Just as it was about to charge at Arthur, completely disregarding his sword, Merlin picked up a discarded helmet and threw it as hard as he could at the thing, yelling at the top of his lungs to get its attention. He thought that if he could distract it, Arthur could find a way to stab it.

Unfortunately, the distraction worked too well. As the creature shifted its attention from Arthur to Merlin, it caught sight of his bright red neckerchief and its eyes flared an unnerving shade of crimson. The creature spun around far more quickly than something of its massive stature should have been able to move, and just as Merlin noticed that it had somehow managed to spear the red Pendragon pennant from top of the castle onto its massive horns, one of the creature's gigantic wings crashed into Arthur's torso and flipped him over the wall.

Merlin's heart seemed to stop beating in his chest and with a yell he lunged towards the edge, but he wasn't fast enough to stop the king's fall. At least not by legal means. When the king was about halfway down, his flailing limbs and terrified scream were suddenly frozen as Merlin stopped time. Even the wind was frozen, and the sudden and absolute silence was extremely eerie.

Merlin's mind raced as he considered his options, painfully aware of the giant, fire-snorting, flying, temporarily frozen bull...thing, right behind him.

Merlin looked down at the king, and then at all the people in the courtyard below, faces frozen in various expressions of horror. He looked behind him at the knights who had just reached the top of the staircase. He looked again at his king, the man he loved like a brother, frozen mid-fall with his hair flying upward and a terrified expression on his face.

Merlin looked down at the courtyard once more, but there was nothing he could use to break Arthur's fall, no conveniently placed mattresses, no cart full of hay, not even a cart full of manure, and he didn't know how to conjure one. His only options were to either break the king's fall with magic, or pull him back up to the battlements with magic. Either way, it would be glaringly obvious that magic had been used to save him.

In a split second he made his decision. He would willingly give his life for Arthur's. He would do whatever it took to save him, even if it meant finally revealing his magic. It was never really even a question. He had been afraid that this might happen for years, and he had prepared for it. Making another split second decision, he summoned Excalibur back up into his hand (he didn't want Arthur to impale himself) and as time began to flow normally once more he cushioned Arthur's fall with a magical shield. As Arthur gently bounced off the ground he spun around and threw Excalibur at the creature, guiding it straight into the bull's heart with his magic.

As his eyes flashed golden and then faded back to their normal shade of blue, and the bull collapsed onto the battlements with a roar, Merlin met the stunned gazes of Elyan and Gwaine, who had just stumbled to the top of the stairs, and time seemed to slow down again. Gwaine seemed to shake it off first and rushed to the edge of the wall beside the warlock, relaxing as soon as he saw the king standing up, miraculously unharmed from his five-story fall. Miraculously...or magically.

Elyan's gaze remained trained on Merlin, and the terror in his eyes made Merlin's heart clench. Elyan had suffered horribly at the hands of Morgana during her latest invasion. He had been magically tortured almost past the point of human endurance, and Merlin's glowing eyes were so like Morgana's that the knight couldn't help the paralyzing fear that crawled through his gut. Even though he knew Merlin was not Morgana, he also knew in his bones that magic was evil. After all, association with magic had killed his father. Any friendship he felt for Merlin was pushed aside the moment he saw his eyes glow that eerie, animalistic yellow. Gathering his courage, he ran at Merlin with a yell, but his blade was intercepted by Gwaine's as the other knight stepped protectively in front of his friend.

Gwaine hadn't yet had time to process the fact that his first ever friend was a sorcerer, but no matter what he wasn't going to let any harm come to Merlin. He owed him more than he could ever say, and trusted him absolutely. Merlin had just saved Arthur's life, again, and killed the beast attacking Camelot; he deserved to be honoured, not murdered. He would reflect on what this meant for the larger issues surrounding the legality and morality of magic later.

"What are you doing?" He asked the terrified knight. "This is Merlin! He'd never hurt you!"

If Gwaine had turned around, he would have seen the heartbreakingly grateful expression that crossed Merlin's face, and the tears shimmering in his eyes from both Gwaine's unwavering faith and Elyan's terror, but Gwaine was far too busy fending off Elyan's attacks to notice.

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Down in the courtyard, Arthur had recovered from his fall, and he wanted to shout to the heavens how happy he was to be alive. The blood rushing through his veins made everything seem sharper, and he couldn't help but laugh with joy and relief. He had evaded certain death once again, and there was no better feeling in the world.

He paused for a moment to wonder exactly how it was that he had fallen five stories into a paved courtyard and sustained only a few bruises, but realized he didn't have time to ponder it when he heard shouting and remembered the creature on the battlements.

The creature on the battlements with Merlin.

He realized that he'd somehow managed to lose his sword, but when he couldn't see Excalibur anywhere in the immediate vicinity he just huffed in frustration and raced up the stairs, leaving a stunned mix of commoners and nobles in the courtyard behind him. When he finally made his way to the top of the wall again, he had to force his way through the knights and guards that were blocking the narrow stairway. He remembered to grab a sword from one of them as he passed. When he finally muscled and commanded his way out the door, he was stunned to see the creature lying dead with Excalibur through its chest, and Elyan trying to fight his way past Gwaine in order to skewer Merlin.

"Sorcerer! He's a sorcerer!" The knight was screaming, looking crazed in his fear.

"Elyan!" Shouted the king, "What the hell are you doing?"

Elyan didn't even seem to hear him, so Arthur gestured two knights forward to restrain him. After they had managed to take hold of his arms and forced him to release his sword, he finally seemed to notice Arthur's presence and stopped struggling, but he remained quietly trembling in the grasp of his comrades, never taking his eyes off of Merlin.

He turned to Gwaine. "What happened?"

"Uh…" The knight hesitated. "Merlin killed the beast."

Arthur looked at his servant in blatant disbelief. "How?"

As he watched, Merlin's face seemed to close and he shrank back against the wall. Gwaine looked at Merlin again. "Uh…"

"With magic." Elyan whispered, his voice trembling. "He's a sorcerer."

Arthur looked at his knight, his face clearly conveying his skepticism. "Elyan... I think you may be a bit confused," he said in a gentle tone.

"I'm not confused!" Said Elyan, his eyes pleading with Arthur to believe him. "I'm not crazy, I know what I saw! His eyes were glowing! He threw the sword at the beast and his eyes were glowing! Gwaine, tell him!" His voice became higher and more frantic the longer he spoke, and when he was done he turned to his fellow knight, begging him with his eyes.

Gwaine was extremely conflicted. Magic was punishable by death in Camelot, and even though Arthur had been far more merciful towards magic-users than his father, he knew that if he told Arthur the truth he could be sending Merlin to the pyre. But if he lied, he would be betraying his liege and letting him think that Elyan's mind was no longer sound. The knight had already been through enough, he didn't deserve to have his king and his friends doubt his sanity when he was telling the truth. Besides, sooner or later Arthur would stop to think for a moment and realize that he should have fallen to his death. Gwaine turned to Merlin, feeling helpless.

Merlin gave him a half-smile. His face was resigned but his eyes were terrified. He had clearly come to the same conclusions that Gwaine had.

Perhaps the series of events that had to led to this moment could have been prevented, if only Merlin could have seen his mistakes for what they were. If only he had been faster, stronger, smarter. If only he had been a seer like Morgana, maybe he could have put off this moment until years later, until a time when Arthur was truly ready to accept his magic. But perhaps not. Perhaps this was always meant to happen, in this way and at this exact moment in time. After all, none of us can choose our destiny, and none of us can escape it. Looking back on this moment, Merlin would eventually realize that the only real mistake he made was blaming himself for everything that happened afterwards.

Merlin straightened up from the wall, looking taller and more dignified than Arthur had ever seen him. "It's alright Gwaine," he said, but his eyes were locked with Arthur's.

"I'm a warlock."

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**A/N - This is my first ever fanfic, please please please review and let me know if you like it! Constructive criticism would be much appreciated, hopefully this will become a multi-chapter story.**


	2. Arthur's Epic Reaction

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

**A/N - Here's the second chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who favorited or is following my story, you guys made my day! **

**Chapter 2: Arthur's Epic Reaction**

_Merlin straightened up from the wall, looking taller and more dignified than Arthur had ever seen him. "It's alright Gwaine," he said, but his eyes were locked with Arthur's._

_"I'm a warlock."_

Arthur stared in shock at the skinny, ridiculous manservant who had somehow become such a necessary part of his life. He sounded so… certain. The king wanted to laugh off his confession as completely ridiculous. After all, how could the same man who had tried to put a centipede in Arthur's bed this morning be an evil sorcerer? As nefarious plots went, it was rather pathetic. But then, what else could he expect from _Mer_lin?

No. Arthur knew better than that. As foolish as Merlin may appear to those who didn't know him well, Arthur had spent seven years with the man as his constant companion. Although his clumsiness, his disrespectful attitude and his goofy grin made him seem like the idiot Arthur so often called him, he was in fact very intelligent. For one thing, he was literate, a rare ability among peasants. He attended most council meetings with Arthur, and seemed to grasp the everyday complexities of running a kingdom just as well as Arthur did, without having been trained all his life to do so. During the long winter nights when Arthur was bored, he and his manservant would sometimes play games of strategy, and Merlin usually won. When Arthur had no idea what to do, it was usually Merlin who ended up giving him the critical piece of advice or encouragement he needed. In fact, Arthur almost always regretted ignoring his manservant's advice, not that he would ever _tell_ Merlin that.

The point being, that if Merlin wanted to plot against Camelot, he could almost certainly think of something better than putting a centipede in the king's bed.

If he were evil, he could have destroyed Camelot from the inside years ago. Arthur had trusted him absolutely, Merlin could have killed him easily if he had so desired. Therefore, Merlin couldn't possibly be a sorcerer.

But the look in his eyes… resignation. Terror, but also resolve. And… relief? Yes, relief. And pride. His whole demeanor spoke of pride, and a quiet self-confidence. It was in the steadiness of his gaze, the straightness of his spine, the angle of his chin. His whole body seemed to be saying, _I refuse to be ashamed of who I am_. He stood with a quiet dignity that Arthur had rarely seen his clumsy manservant display. And if his hands were trembling with fear, and his eyes were a little too bright, Arthur could hardly blame him.

A realization suddenly hit him. There was no way he could have survived that fall without… interference.

"You saved my life, didn't you." He said quietly.

"Yeah," Merlin replied, with another half smile. The moment was too serious for one of his trademark heartwarming smiles. "Again."

And Arthur believed him. When Merlin looked at him so seriously, it was impossible to doubt the truth of his statement. Merlin was never serious without a good reason.

With a start, he remembered all the knights and guards, standing behind him, watching their interaction, waiting to see what he would do. Waiting for his orders. Arthur felt numb, overwhelmed. He had no idea what to do, he needed more time… but now he could feel the gazes of his knights on his shoulder blades, and he knew that there was only one option open to him. He was the king, it was his duty to uphold the laws of Camelot, and Merlin had just broken them.

Arthur looked at Merlin. Would he fight his arrest? Did he even have enough power to do so? This morning he would have said that there was no way Merlin could ever take on any of his knights and have even the slightest chance of injuring them, but now he realized that he had no idea just what this new Merlin, this defiant and deceitful Merlin, was capable of.

But then, he had confessed to sorcery to protect Elyan and Gwaine. Whatever his true motives might be, it would be counterproductive to attack his knights _now_.

The king purposefully chose two of Merlin's friends, but also men he knew would obey his orders without question.

"Leon, Gareth. Arrest him."

Arthur was proud that the turmoil in his mind wasn't reflected in his voice. He sounded cold. Calm. In charge. Like he knew what the hell he was doing.

The two knights he had chosen moved forward silently to take Merlin gently by the arms, and the sorcerer didn't resist. He cast one pleading look towards Arthur as he walked towards the dungeons, shoulders straight, and whatever he was looking for in the king's face he seemed to find it. He turned around and didn't look back again.

* * *

Arthur walked back to his chambers in a daze. He had retrieved Excalibur from the beast's body, and ordered the removal and burial of the bodies. He had sent a messenger to fetch Guinevere. He had ignored Gwaine as he repeatedly insisted that Arthur let Merlin out of the dungeons, even going so far as to threaten to break him out if Arthur condemned him to the pyre.

The king collapsed onto his bed, head resting in his hands. Of all the stupid things Merlin could have done, he had to practice sorcery? Couldn't he have taken up knitting like a sane person? What had possessed him to risk his soul for a little bit of power?

Arthur sat up suddenly. That was it! Merlin was possessed! Or perhaps it wasn't really Merlin at all.

No. Arthur slumped back down. That would be far too easy. Of course Merlin was a sorcerer. After all, everyone else that he cared about had betrayed him, why would Merlin be the exception? Morgana, Agravaine, Guinevere… even Arthur himself had betrayed his father by trying to heal him with magic, and Uther had betrayed Gaius, his most loyal advisor, to the Witchfinder. Arthur should know by now that betrayal was an inevitable fact of life for princes and kings. But for all his obvious faults and quirks, Arthur had thought Merlin's loyalty to be beyond reproach. For Arthur, Merlin had drunk poison, suffered days in the stocks, allowed himself to be dragged on hated hunting trips, traveled to the Perilous Lands, stood up to the king, faced down a dragon, jumped in front of a Dorocha… Why had he done all those things, if he was a sorcerer?

Maybe the sorcery was a recent development? And if that was the case, maybe it hadn't corrupted him yet. Maybe he could make Merlin swear to never use it again, it had worked for his father and Gaius. And Gaius' knowledge of magic was damn useful. Yes, that was what he'd do. He'd make Merlin stay in the dungeons for a few weeks as a token punishment, and then publicly swear to never use magic again. The people would probably accept it, after all, Merlin had only used his magic to save Arthur's life and kill the beast. The council of lords might be a little more difficult, but even they would have to see the practicality of keeping around a loyal man who had knowledge of magic. After all, Gaius wasn't getting any younger.

Arthur felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He finally knew what to do. Maybe he could start a sorcerer rehabilitation program? Surely Merlin couldn't be the only person in the kingdom who had fallen to the temptation of sorcery, but had yet to harm anyone. Arthur had never really agreed with burning people for using magic to heal loved ones or grow crops. He had recently stopped his persecution of the druids, because he knew in his heart that it wasn't just.

Arthur's relief and newfound resolution only lasted until his wife burst into the room, wide-eyed and gasping, a trembling hand clenched above her collarbone.

She skidded to a stop when she saw him slumped on the bed. "It's true? You've arrested Merlin for sorcery?" Her voice was breathy and incredulous.

"He confessed. Elyan and Gwaine saw him use it. He… he saved my life." His voice sounded hollow. Here, with Guinevere, he could show how confused he was, how betrayed he felt.

She sat down on the bed beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. He wrapped hi arms around her, needing the physical contact to keep himself grounded.

"Do you remember," she whispered after a moment, "that plague seven years ago, the one that almost killed my father? Do you remember how he recovered miraculously, and I was arrested for sorcery? Merlin… Merlin actually confessed, and no one believed him." She let out a weak chuckle.

Arthur couldn't find it in himself to laugh, because he suddenly realized that there would never be a sorcerer rehabilitation program. If Merlin had been practicing sorcery as long as seven years ago then there was no way to save him, no way to excuse his actions. The man he trusted most in the world had been lying to him for SEVEN YEARS.

Arthur's heart throbbed in his chest, and the need to lash out at Merlin and hurt him the same way he had been hurt suddenly made itself known to Arthur's confused psyche. Merlin had BETRAYED him! Merlin had been lying to him all along, pretending to be his friend, lying right to his face. If he had lied about this, what else had he lied about? Arthur's breathing quickened and his pulse raced as his fury erased all rational thought from his brain. The only time he could ever remember being this angry was when Morgause had made him believe that his father had caused the death of his mother. Back then, it had been Merlin who had prevented him from killing the king. This time, it was Gwen who prevented him from killing Merlin.

Arthur leapt up and started to storm towards the dungeon, but Gwen quickly jumped up and stood in front of him, trying to restrain him with her hands on his chest.

"Arthur, wait! I know you're really angry right now, I know you're feeling hurt and betrayed, I am too, but think of it from his point of view! He must have been so scared. All these years he's carried this secret, and we never noticed. He must have been terrified, but he still saved your life." Her eyes filled with tears, and just like that Arthur felt his fury drain away and his heart shatter.

"Why?" He whispered brokenly. "Why would he do this? If he was a sorcerer, why did he ever come to Camelot? Why would he risk his life for me? Why would he earn my trust, only to call me a prat and put centipedes in my bed?" He spun away from her quickly and kicked the bedpost.

"I just don't understand!" He roared, and his voice cracked.

"Maybe you should ask him." Came an old, sorrowful voice from the doorway.

Arthur turned around again to see Gaius standing just inside the room. He looked very old and very tired.

"Did you know?" Arthur had to understand just how deep this betrayal ran. Perhaps there was a whole conspiracy of sorcerers, hidden behind the faces of people he thought he knew.

"Yes, I knew. I found out on the very first day he arrived in Camelot. I fell off the balcony in my chambers and he saved my life, much as he saved your life today."

Arthur briefly considered the idea that Merlin had _caused_ both Gaius and himself to fall, so that he could save them and gain their trust. But that didn't make any sense; Merlin had already had Arthur's trust. Did he still have it? Arthur honestly didn't know. All of a sudden the king felt like he didn't know anything at all, maybe he had never known anything at all.

"You should go talk to him. I'm sure that right now he wants nothing more than the chance to explain himself to you. You owe him that much." Gaius' gaze was stern.

"He's right," Guinevere said, "the only way any of us will ever understand is to ask him."

Arthur bowed to the wisdom of his physician and his queen, and walked to the dungeons with as much dignity as he could muster while holding onto his wife's hand.

* * *

Arthur let go of Guinevere a few corridors before they reached the dungeons. He tried to hide his vulnerability behind a mask of righteous anger and cold detachment. He tried to be a king going to question a sorcerer, not a man going to demand answers from his best friend. He wasn't sure if he succeeded.

Arthur was afraid. He had always been much better at charging forward with a sword in his hand than dealing with his emotions. He had never really even told Merlin how much he meant to him, how much he relied on him and trusted him, but then, he'd never had too. Merlin had always just known what Arthur wanted to say, and saved him the embarrassment of actually saying it by insulting him or making a stupid joke. After seven years, Merlin knew Arthur better than anyone ever had. But it seemed that Arthur had never really known Merlin.

Arthur was afraid, because no matter what happened next, no matter what Merlin said, Arthur had been living a lie. If Merlin was evil, plotting the downfall of Camelot, corrupted by sorcery, then the man Arthur had considered to be his best friend had never even existed. But if Merlin wasn't evil… then everything Uther had ever taught him about the nature of sorcery was wrong. Then countless innocents had been slaughtered by his own hand.

Arthur honestly didn't know which idea was worse.

The pit in his stomach seemed to grow larger with every step he took.

* * *

**A/N - ****This is my very first fanfic, so I would really appreciate any feedback you want to give me. Did you understand the connection between the colour red and the crazy bull in the last chapter? Is my writing style confusing at all? Does this story make you laugh, or is it too angsty? Please take pity on an anxious writer and review!**


	3. Arthur's Epic Decision

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

**A/N - Thank you so much to my reviewers, Kana117, seansey, kitkatthecat, xxkamqxx, Jelly Babes 101 and ruby 890, your support means a lot to me.**

**seansey - I don't believe that Arthur could ever actually kill Merlin, and even if he tried Merlin could totally kick his butt. I hope I've managed to explain exactly what Merlin is most afraid of in this chapter.**

**Chapter 3: Arthur's Epic Decision**

"_Leon, Gareth. Arrest him."_

_Arthur was proud that the turmoil in his mind wasn't reflected in his voice. He sounded cold. Calm. In charge. Like he knew what the hell he was doing._

_The two knights he had chosen moved forward silently to take Merlin gently by the arms, and the sorcerer didn't resist. He cast one pleading look towards Arthur as he walked towards the dungeons, shoulders straight, and whatever he was looking for in the king's face he seemed to find it. He turned around and didn't look back again._

Merlin hid his fear and uncertainty behind a carefully blank mask as Leon and Gareth escorted him to the dungeons. The knights remained silent, unsure of what to say. They wanted to know why he had done it, where on earth he had learned it, how he could have betrayed his king and country by delving into the forbidden arts.

But then, the why seemed rather obvious. Merlin had been Arthur's not-so-silent shadow for years now, and he had earned the knights' respect with his unwavering devotion and his uncommon bravery. Of course Merlin would do whatever it took to keep Arthur safe, after all, he had never had much respect for the rules, and if they were honest with themselves then they had to admit that that was one of the reasons they admired him. It felt so wrong to be escorting a man who had accompanied them on countless dangerous missions, a man who had made them laugh, a man who had earned their respect, a man who had saved their king, to the dungeons. So the knights said nothing. What on earth could they say that would make this situation alright?

For his part, Merlin remained silent because he was afraid that if he started talking he wouldn't be able to stop until he had explained everything and begged desperately for their forgiveness, and he wanted to confess everything to Arthur first. His friend and king deserved that much.

But secretly, in his heart, he hoped that one of the knights would say something. Maybe thank him for slaying the beast and saving Arthur, or tell him that they didn't see him any differently, or reassure him that everything was going to be okay.

There was only silence.

* * *

Merlin was alone in the dungeon; the guards at the end of the hall were too scared to stand any closer. Leon and Gareth had chained him to the wall with iron manacles, just like they would any other sorcerer, and he hadn't protested. They hadn't gagged him though, and for that he was grateful.

He sighed quietly, and drew his knees up to his chest. How the hell had this happened so quickly? Just this morning he had been teasing Arthur as usual and now he was alone in the dark, waiting for Arthur to work up the nerve to confront him. He began to shake. Sure, he had imagined what would happen when Arthur found out about his magic for years, but imagining what would happen and living it were two completely different things. He honestly didn't know what Arthur was going to do.

Merlin wasn't worried about being executed. He didn't think that Arthur would be able to kill him, and even if he gave the order (Merlin's heart clenched at the thought), the warlock was more than capable of escaping. Still, the idea of facing the pyre or the executioner's block seemed far more tangible as he sat on the earthen floor where countless prisoners, both guilty and innocent, had sat before him.

In truth, it wasn't death that he was afraid of; it was the loss of his friends, the fear and condemnation he might see in their eyes. All his life he had been forced to conceal his abilities. He had known from a very young age that people would hate him if they ever discovered what he was capable of. The idea that everyone he loved would soon know about his magic made him feel relieved and terrified at the same time.

Relieved, because finally he could truly be himself, because they would finally see him for who he really was, not the person he had had to pretend to be.

Terrified, because if they rejected him he wasn't sure he'd ever recover. If Arthur hated him for his magic, if he couldn't see the man that Merlin was underneath it all, the man who wanted nothing more than a place to belong, friends and a family and freedom from persecution, then everything Merlin had done to protect him and guide him would have been for nothing. His hopes for the future of Albion would be shattered, along with his heart. Arthur had the power to utterly destroy him. Maybe not his body, but his identity, his very purpose for being. Merlin had suffered the indignities of life as a servant, turned away from the suffering of his people, all in the hope that one day Arthur would prove to be the king they needed. He had fought so long and so hard for a future that was completely dependent on the decisions that Arthur would make next.

Merlin didn't think he would be strong enough to start again, if all his sacrifices turned out to have been for nothing. Maybe, if Arthur decided to execute him, he should just let him. After all, if Arthur turned into a tyrant like Uther, his life would be meaningless anyway.

No. He refused to give in to despair. Even if Arthur condemned him now, who knew what might happen in the future to change his mind? No matter what happened next with Arthur, Merlin had a duty to the people of Camelot, magical and non-magical. Without him around to protect them, they would probably fall within a year.

Merlin's mouth twisted with the bitter irony. And Arthur thought _he _had heavy responsibilities.

* * *

_Arthur was afraid, because no matter what Merlin said, Arthur had been living a lie. If Merlin was evil, plotting the downfall of Camelot, corrupted by sorcery, then the man Arthur had considered to be his best friend had never even existed. But if Merlin wasn't evil… then everything Uther had ever taught him about the nature of sorcery was wrong. Then countless innocents had been slaughtered by his own hand._

_Arthur honestly didn't know which idea was worse. _

_The pit in his stomach seemed to grow larger with every step he took._

Arthur paused outside of Merlin's cell, just watching.

His manservant was sitting on the floor, manacled wrists resting on his knees. He looked to be deep in thought. He looked… exactly the same. Lanky and awkward and harmless.

Could he really be a sorcerer? After all, Arthur hadn't actually seen him perform any magic. Before this went any further, he needed to know, beyond any doubt, just what Merlin was capable of.

"Prove it." Arthur's quiet demand echoed in the dungeons.

Merlin turned to look up at him. "Prove what?"

"Prove that you're a sorcerer."

"Warlock."

"Whatever! Prove it."

"They're actually two different...nevermind." Merlin trailed off when Arthur glared at him.

Merlin thought for a moment, noticing Gaius and Gwen standing in the shadows behind Arthur, Gaius looking solemn and Gwen apprehensive. He didn't want to do anything they might consider threatening, but he didn't want to have this conversation chained to the wall either.

He looked down at his manacles and said, "_Tospringe." _His irises glowed with a golden light and the chains fell away. Gwen gasped. Rubbing his wrists, Merlin stood up, watching Arthur.

Arthur's face hardened as he saw the proof he had been dreading. There was no going back now.

"How long have you been practicing sorcery?"

Merlin looked unsurprised by the question, and his eyes begged Arthur for understanding, but Arthur refused to let his cold mask slip.

"All my life. I was born with magic, that's what it means to be a warlock. I never had any choice. When I was a child I couldn't control it and sometimes things would just… happen." Merlin sighed. "It terrified my mother, even though we were technically in Cenred's kingdom, she thought that if Uther ever heard about what I could do he would come after me. I've been hiding my abilities for as long as I can remember." Merlin smiled wryly. "Actually, I guess you could say that even though I've been using magic all my life, I didn't start practicing sorcery until I came to Camelot. I learned my first spells here." Merlin seemed amused, but it was a dark kind of amusement, and Arthur's cold demeanor remained unchanged.

Gaius just looked worried.

Gwen stepped forward until she was standing next to Arthur. "If you've had magic all your life, why did you come to Camelot in the first place? You would have been safer _anywhere_ else." Her voice was soft, puzzled. But she didn't look angry, and that gave Merlin hope.

Merlin sighed again, and answered from the heart. "My friend Will found out about my magic, and my mother was terrified. I'd almost accidentally dropped a tree on Old Man Simmons, and mother thought that Gaius would be able to help me learn to master my abilities, gain control over them. And I… I felt so out of place in Ealdor, trapped. Everyone knew that there was something strange about me, and I knew I would never be happy there. I wanted to understand why I was different, why I had been given such great power. And I had heard stories about Camelot all my life, I wanted to see it for myself."

Merlin paused, gathering his thoughts, and then directed his words towards Arthur again. He needed Arthur to react, to give Merlin a clue as to what he needed to do in order to fix this.

"You know, my very first day in Camelot I saw the execution of Tom Collins. Your Father killed him for the crime of trying to heal a child. You probably don't remember him, but I'm sure you remember his mother, the witch who impersonated Lady Helen and threw a dagger at you? That was the first time I used my magic to save your life." His eyes darkened. "It was also the first time I ever killed someone."

"The chandelier," Gwen realized.

"Yes. Anyway, after seeing that execution I knew that I would have to be even more careful about concealing my magic here than I had been in Ealdor." Merlin shivered, remembering the crowds that always gathered to watch the executions of sorcerers. The hungry, fascinated and yet horrified gleam in the eyes of the people he saw in town everyday never failed to give him nightmares.

Gaius rolled his eyes. "And then one of the first things he did was save me, a stranger, with magic. Stupid boy," he said, but his words held no bite.

Arthur was so deep in thought that he didn't even register Gaius' words. "Is it common, being born with magic? I didn't know it was even possible."

"It is extremely rare," Gaius answered. "Only the most powerful sorcerers can perform magic without using spells, and I have never heard of an infant being able to do so. The ability usually manifests itself in later years, like it did for Morgana."

"But it's possible to have magic without choosing it?" The potential ramifications staggered the king. Was it possible to be born evil? He had always believed that a man chose his own path.

Merlin seemed to guess what he was thinking about. "Magic by nature isn't good or evil Arthur, it just is. Magic existed long before men did, and it will exist long after we're gone. It is our choices, not our inherent abilities that determine our character. I have always tried to use my powers for good."

"Tried?"

Merlin looked away. "Everyone makes mistakes," he said quietly, his voice holding a depth of sorrow and regret that Arthur hadn't known his servant was even capable of feeling.

For a while, silence reigned in the dungeons as Arthur absorbed what he had learned.

"How do I know you aren't lying?"

Merlin looked sad. "I suppose you don't. I have no way to prove that I was born with magic. I guess you could ask my Mother. As for proving that magic isn't evil, the only proof I have is the fact that you're still alive. At any time over the last 7 years I could have turned on you, killed you, killed your father and taken over the kingdom. I have the power." Arthur suppressed a shiver, Merlin didn't sound like he was boasting, he sounded like he was just stating an obvious fact. "I'm not completely useless, despite what you may think. Hell, I could have just stood aside and let someone else kill you, the gods know enough people tried. My life would have been a hell of a lot easier if you were dead, I certainly don't enjoy having goblets thrown at me. But you're still alive, and I'm still here protecting you."

"Why?" Finally, Arthur asked the question that had been haunting him.

"Because I'm not evil! Because you don't deserve to suffer for the mistakes of your father. Because you're a great man, Arthur, and a great king. Because I have always hoped that one day you would realize the truth, and magic would be returned to the land without bloodshed. Because you're my friend, and I could never let any harm come to you."

Arthur's cold façade started to crumble as he heard the sincerity in Merlin's voice, the absolute conviction.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Merlin flinched. "Every time I thought your attitude towards magic might be changing, something would happen to harden your heart again. At first I thought I would tell you when you became king. If I had told you while your father was alive your loyalties would have been divided, and I never wanted to put you in that position. But after your father died you were so angry, so determined to rule the way your father would have wanted you to."

Merlin's body seemed to fold in on itself, as if he were being compressed by all the sorrows of the world. "I was afraid," he admitted quietly. "Afraid that you would hate me. Afraid that you would only see me as a monster. Afraid that you would punish Gaius for harboring a sorcerer." He took a shuddering breath. "I've never told anyone who wasn't also a magic-user." He looked at Gwen. "I wanted to tell you so badly, but I couldn't bear to put you in danger, or force you to lie to Arthur."

He looked so miserable that Gwen couldn't stand it anymore. "Open the door, Merlin."

Merlin looked startled and a little apprehensive, but with a wave of his hand the lock clicked and the cell door swung open. Arthur was a little miffed that Gwen hadn't just asked him to do it, after all, he was the one with the keys.

Gwen flew into the cell and pulled the startled warlock into a rib-crushing hug.

"I could never think of you as a monster," she said. "Thank you for being such a good friend, and for saving Arthur's life, and my father's."

Merlin returned her embrace, hiding his face in her shoulder to hide the sudden flood of emotion her words had triggered. He should have known that Gwen would put the pieces together, that she would figure out that he was the one who had healed her father. He let her hold him up for a few moments, then slowly released her and stepped away, trying to surreptitiously wipe his eyes. The last thing he needed was for Arthur to call him a girl.

Actually, maybe that was exactly what he needed, for Arthur to talk to him the same way he always had, for some sort of normal, human interaction between them.

But Arthur remained silent. And he remained outside the cell, as if the bars between them could shield him from the hurt and betrayal his friend had caused.

And as he watched his wife embrace his friend, the king realized that he couldn't punish Merlin the way sorcerers were supposed to be punished. He couldn't execute him. Even after his betrayal, Arthur still cared about him far too much. He still owed him far too much. And if he believed Merlin's story, he hadn't really done anything to warrant a death sentence anyway. Uther could have justified his execution, but Arthur couldn't.

But neither could Arthur forgive him. Merlin had lied to him for far too long, and far too easily. Arthur felt like a fool for never realizing that he had never really known the man he secretly thought of as his best friend.

His heart lurched as it occurred to him that they had never really been friends. True friendship required equality and mutual respect. And while Merlin had always treated Arthur as if their stations in life didn't matter, insulting him with no care for propriety, Arthur had never really acknowledged Merlin as his equal. He let him get away with things that he would never have allowed from anyone else, but that was mostly because he enjoyed Merlin's complete lack of fear, not because he believed that Merlin had the right to treat him as an equal. Merlin knew everything about Arthur, his likes and dislikes, his hopes and fears, he had stood by his side through the best and worst times in Arthur's life. But Arthur had been forced to realize that in comparison he knew almost nothing about Merlin. Sure, he knew that Merlin liked red and blue, that he hated hunting, that he disliked strawberries and loved going to the tavern. But he hadn't known that Merlin had disliked Arthur's father, that he had risked his life by coming to Camelot, what his real views on magic were. Arthur had been to Ealdor, he had met Hunith and Will, but he had never really spoken to Merlin about what his life had been like before he came to Camelot. As a matter of fact, Arthur had no idea what Merlin's life was really like in Camelot either, he only had a vague idea of what Merlin did when he wasn't attending to Arthur. He had always just assumed that there was nothing else to know. How wrong he had been.

Now, he felt like a veil had been lifted from his eyes. He was seeing his manservant in a new light, and he didn't know how things could ever go back to the way they had been before.

So. He couldn't kill him, but he couldn't forgive him. Merlin was a self-professed sorcerer (sorry, warlock), and the whole city probably knew about it by now. Arthur wasn't really sure what he was going to do about the policies regarding magic, it wasn't the kind of decision that could be made in haste, but even if he decided to make it legal again, it wouldn't happen overnight. He could just leave Merlin in his cell until he figured it all out, but that would make him look weak and indecisive, and he somehow doubted that Merlin would be so obliging as to actually _stay_ in his cell when he could so easily escape.

There seemed to be only one option left: banishment. Arthur let the idea float around in his mind, and the more he thought about it the more sure he was that it was the right course to take. He needed time away from Merlin to come to terms with what he had learned, and the people needed to see him being decisive. He felt a moment's hesitation when he thought about Gaius, and his love for the boy, but hardened his heart when he remembered that Gaius had also been lying to him for years. Besides, the physician had to understand that it was better than the alternative. Arthur was being merciful.

He hoped Gwen would understand. She had obviously already forgiven Merlin for his lies, but Arthur couldn't do the same.

Arthur didn't realize it at the time, but he never once considered that if he wanted to, Merlin could just refuse to leave. Or he could gather an army of sorcerers and attack Camelot in revenge. He never considered that it would be unwise to leave Merlin alive to wreak havoc in his kingdom. Some bonds are deeper than love or blood or friendship, and beneath all of the turmoil in his mind and the hurt in his heart, Arthur knew in his soul that Merlin could never be a threat to him. Perhaps that was why he had never really considered Merlin capable of being a threat to anyone else, either. He now knew the error of that assumption, Merlin was apparently more than capable of lying and fighting off terrifying magical beasts. But Arthur still felt safe.

Decision made, Arthur felt better. It had always been that way for him, the decision was the hardest part, but once his choice had been made he stuck to it through hell or high water.

He looked up, and saw Merlin watching him. He stepped forward and held the warlock's gaze.

"I have come to a decision, Merlin. For the loyal service you have given me and for the debt I owe you for saving my life, I will spare you from execution. But your actions do not excuse the fact that you have been breaking the law and deceiving me for as long as I have known you. You have broken the trust I placed in you, and I cannot have a known sorcerer in my kingdom." Arthur paused and took a deep breath. "You are hereby banished, on pain of death. As a courtesy, I will give you until dawn tomorrow to gather your things and leave."

Arthur turned on his heels and left, seeming just as cold and distant as he had been when he had arrived. It was only when he returned to his chambers and saw the bed that Merlin would never make again, and the armor he would never polish, and the mop and bucket left abandoned in the middle of the floor, that he broke down and silently wept for all that he had lost.

* * *

**A/N - I tried to write a reveal that was different from anything people have read before, I hope I succeeded. I've always thought it was unrealistic that Merlin would dump everything on Arthur all at once, and Arthur would just accept it in the span of a few hours or days. In the chapters ahead Merlin's adventures will start, and there will be a lot more humour, but there will also be some conversations between our favorite king and warlock about destiny, dragons and The Great Dragoon.**

**If you liked it, please review and let me know! If you think there's something they really should talk about before Merlin starts his epic journey, let me know and maybe I'll put it in the next chapter.**


	4. Merlin's Epic Departure, Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

**A/N - Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, Jelly Babes 101, sword, xander, and ruby890.**

**xander - I did waver a bit on having Merlin wanting to beg Arthur's forgiveness, I certainly don't think he needs it, but it felt right to put it in. I think Merlin has had to do things that he regrets, and lying to Arthur is one of those things.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Merlin's Epic Departure, Part 1**

_"I have come to a decision, Merlin. For the loyal service you have given me and for the debt I owe you for saving my life, I will spare you from execution. But your actions do not excuse the fact that you have been breaking the law and deceiving me for as long as I have known you. You have broken the trust I placed in you, and I cannot have a known sorcerer in my kingdom." Arthur paused and took a deep breath. "You are hereby banished, on pain of death. As a courtesy, I will give you until dawn tomorrow to gather your things and leave."_

_Arthur turned on his heels and left, seeming as cold and distant as he had been when he arrived. It was only when he returned to his chambers and saw the bed that Merlin would never make again, and the armor he would never polish, the mop and bucket left abandoned in the middle of the floor, that he broke down and wept for all that he had lost._

Merlin, Gwen and Gaius stared after Arthur as he turned and left the dungeons.

Merlin was a little bit stunned. Banishment wasn't entirely unexpected, and it was certainly better than execution, but he had thought that he would have more time to talk to Arthur, to explain his actions. He had thought that Arthur would want more information before he made his decision, that he would have had more questions. He had been counting on spending a few days at least in the dungeons. He had expected yelling, and angry accusations, maybe some physical violence… He had never expected to be confronted with that cold, distant, kingly façade. That was the mask Arthur wore in front of other people, in front of his enemies, never in front of Merlin.

Merlin's heart lurched as it truly hit him that, in Arthur's mind, _Merlin_ was now an enemy.

"I'll talk to him, try and change his mind," Gwen said, turning to follow Arthur, but Merlin reached out and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"No, wait a moment, I need a minute to think," he said, and then he sat back down on the floor. After a moment, Gwen sat down beside him. Gaius considered joining them, but decided against it because of his old and creaky knees. It was cold and damp down in the dungeons. Instead, he stepped inside the unlocked cell and leaned against the bars.

They remained still and silent for several long moments as Merlin's thoughts raced.

There was just so much that he hadn't told Arthur yet. The prophecies, the dragon, his role in Uther's death, everything he had done to defend Camelot against magical threats over the years, Morgana, Lancelot… It was a long list of secrets that had been weighing heavily on Merlin's heart for far too long, and he desperately wanted to be free of them.

But Arthur wasn't ready for that, even if it would make Merlin feel better. Arthur wasn't ready to hear about Merlin's triumphs or his mistakes. Arthur needed space, and time. Just the fact that Arthur hadn't spouted out one of Uther's magic-is-evil rants gave Merlin a lot of hope that maybe his attitude towards magic was changing. Overwhelming him with too much information right now would not be a good idea. And yelling at him for being a blind, stubborn, ungrateful prat probably wouldn't help much either.

So, maybe banishment was exactly what they needed right now. Merlin couldn't just stay in Camelot as a known sorcerer. He could try and insist he stay in the dungeons, but having to pretend to remain here would limit his movements and just be all around unpleasant. The only advantage to staying in the dungeons would be that his friends could come and visit him, he wouldn't have to lose them completely… He cut off that train of thought before it could carry him any farther. This decision was much bigger than just him, he couldn't allow his emotions to influence his actions right now. There was too much at stake.

His mind flinched away from emotional considerations and switched into the cold and calculating mode that Merlin both loved and feared. Sometimes he felt a little like a spider in the middle of a web of lies, with threads attached to many of the great and powerful in Camelot, threads that he could subtly pull to achieve his ends. That his goals were usually altruistic didn't always comfort him. Sometimes he wondered which of his abilities was more terrifying: the ability to call lightning from the heavens, or the ability to deceive and manipulate the people he cared about.

Politically, banishment was definitely the best option. It showed the people that Arthur was both strong and merciful, and it opened the door to diminishing the punishment for other magic-users. Arthur could say he spared Merlin because he saved the life of the King, and he could then use his banishment as a precedent to spare others.

Merlin smiled. Arthur was a good king. It was moments like this that made the warlock respect him and gave him hope that the prophecies would be fulfilled.

Gwen saw him smiling and wondered what the hell he was thinking about. What could there possibly be to smile about when he had just been banished from his home?

Gaius understood, and said nothing.

Merlin wasn't paying any attention to either of them, he was far too focused on his own thoughts. So, it seemed the best thing he could do, for Arthur and for the future of Albion, was to accept his banishment, at least for the time being. Banishments didn't really seem to be a permanent thing these days anyway (cough Gwen cough), and if he believed in destiny (which at this point he really had to, he had sacrificed far too much for it to all come to nothing), then he knew that he would be back one day.

So Merlin did what he usually did when faced with a difficult choice: he put Arthur's and Camelot's welfare above his own. And right now, that meant leaving.

Merlin knew that it was the right thing to do, and he decided then and there, sitting on the cold dungeon floor, that he wouldn't let himself feel anything about his decision until afterwards. He had far too much to do, and he couldn't afford to show any weakness, even to himself, until he was far away from Camelot.

His mind hummed with plans and he began to make a mental list of everything he needed to do in the next few hours. Just because he was leaving didn't mean he was going to leave Camelot unprotected.

Decision made, he stood up and embraced his mentor. Gaius folded him into his arms, and in that moment Gwen could see every one of his years written on his face.

"So my boy, you've decided to leave." It wasn't a question. Gaius knew him better than anyone in the world.

Merlin released his guardian and turned to include Gwen in the conversation.

"Yes, I'm leaving." Once spoken aloud, the words seemed to echo around his skull and drive a knife of pain and fear into his heart, but he quickly put a lid back on his emotions before they could spill over and betray him. "It's the right thing to do, I've put Arthur in a very difficult position, and staying will only make things harder for him. Besides, I don't know if anyone will ever trust me again. Things will never be the same as they were, never again." He paused to let that statement sink in, and any thoughts that Gwen had of trying to convince Arthur to repeal the banishment ended. Because Merlin was right, even if he stayed, things could never be as they were.

Gwen wished that she could turn back time, wished that Merlin's sorcery had never been discovered, and then she felt guilty for that wish. It was obvious to her that it had hurt Merlin to have to hide his magic, and she never wanted her friend to be hurt. Perhaps this was the lesser of two evils. Now that his secret was out they could all learn to come to terms with it, and maybe one day Merlin would never have to be afraid to be himself ever again. Gwen silently decided that this would be her new goal, her way of repaying Merlin for her father's life and for her husband's. If anyone had a chance of convincing Arthur to change the laws concerning sorcery, it was Gwen. And that was what she told Merlin.

She wasn't expecting Merlin to launch himself at her and pull her into his arms again.

"You're the best friend anyone could ever have, Gwen," the warlock murmured into her ear, his voice almost cracking.

"I know," she murmured back, "so are you."

* * *

Looking back, Merlin often thought that it was Gwen's words, and Gwen's acceptance, that allowed him to get through the rest of the long day and night that followed. They left a warm glow in his heart that sheltered him from the whispers that followed him and Gaius as they walked back to the physician's chambers. Even when a serving girl yelped and darted down another hallway at the sight of him, even though they were being escorted by half a dozen guards, even though the people he had once considered friends stared at him with hatred and fear as he walked past them, he didn't let it touch him because he knew that Gwen didn't see him any differently. He walked proudly, head held high. _I refuse to be ashamed of who I am. _He repeated the words in his mind like a mantra.

When they reached Gaius' chambers, the physician refused to allow the guards to follow them inside.

"Let an old man say goodbye in private," he cajoled them. "He has been a loyal servant to the king for years, he saved the king's life today, and the king gave him until dawn to leave. Let him pack his things and say his goodbyes in peace."

The guards looked uncertain. There wasn't really a protocol for the treatment of banished sorcerers. They might have refused his request, but at that moment Gwaine came strolling down the corridor, and offered to take custody of Merlin. The guards shrugged. He was a knight, and outranked them. If anything happened, they could just blame it on him. The six guards took up positions outside the door, and Gwaine strode inside, slamming the door a little harder than was strictly necessary in their faces.

Gwaine plopped himself down into a chair and swung his feet up onto the table, ignoring Gaius' admonishments. He focused all of his attention on Merlin. After a moment, Merlin sat slowly in the other chair, and Gaius sat on his cot.

"So," said Gwaine conversationally, "you're a sorcerer. How long has that been going on?"

Merlin relaxed a little. Gwaine didn't sound angry, in fact he sounded the same way he would if he were asking about Merlin's new hat, or something equally as banal and commonplace.

"I was born a warlock, so quite a long time," said Merlin, equally as casually. "Thanks for defending me, up there."

Gwaine waved away his thanks. "Anytime. I'm sorry about Elyan, he was… not thinking too clearly. He still isn't, he's with Leon and Percival in his chambers. We had to sedate him." A dark, faraway expression crossed his face. "He had a flashback."

Merlin winced. "I never wanted to cause him any pain, I would never harm any of you, I – " Gwaine cut him off, before he could get any further.

"I know, I never doubted that for a minute. You did it for the same reason you do everything, you did it for Arthur. I think I understand why you didn't tell me, I can't imagine what it must be like to be a sorcerer in Camelot, but I really wish you had. You can trust me, you know."

"I know." Gwaine's words joined Gwen's in his heart, and he felt the warm glow there grow brighter. Their unconditional acceptance of him was more than he had ever expected. Their friendship was like a shield that he could use to protect his heart from the fear and hatred the rest of Camelot would direct at him. "I do trust you. But I could never ask you to choose between your loyalty to me and your duty as a knight."

"I'd choose you, of course." Gwaine's answer was simple and absolutely sincere. "I was your friend long before I became a knight. In fact, I only became a knight because of you. And because Arthur's not so bad, for a princess," he added as an afterthought.

Merlin's smile could have brightened even the dungeons, and Gwaine smiled back. Gaius stood up and put his hand on Gwaine's shoulder, a silent gesture of gratitude.

"Now all the mushy stuff's out of the way, what's this I hear about banishment?" Asked Gwaine.

Merlin sighed. "It's for the best right now Gwaine, not everyone is going to take this as well as you have. And Arthur… I've really hurt him. I don't know of he'll ever be able to forgive me."

Merlin looked away, but not before Gwaine saw the look of intense sorrow on his face. In less time than it took to blink the expression was gone, and Gwaine almost doubted that he'd ever seen it. But he was paying more attention to details now, and he knew he hadn't imagined it.

After Merlin had been escorted to the dungeons, and Gwaine had finished threatening the princess, he had found himself sitting in an empty corridor, wishing for a drink but knowing that now was not the time to muddle his wits. He considered everything he knew about his friend, and about magic, and came to some very important conclusions. First, magic couldn't be as evil as Arthur believed it to be, because Merlin most definitely wasn't evil. Second, for Merlin to have kept such a secret, he must be far more cunning than Gwaine had ever given him credit for. Third, Merlin must have had a very compelling reason to come to Camelot and work as Arthur's servant. Based on the abilities that Gwaine had seen him use up on the battlements, Merlin could have been welcomed and even celebrated in a more tolerant kingdom. He could be rich and powerful, but instead he spent his life performing menial tasks for a king who would hate him for his gifts. Gwaine briefly considered the idea that it was all a part of some nefarious plot, but discarded it with a snort. Merlin may be more cunning than he had thought, and Gwaine may be a little upset with him for his lies and a little in awe of him for his abilities, but at the end of it all, Merlin was still Merlin. Gwaine prided himself on being a good judge of character, and he had liked Merlin from the moment he shook hands with him in the middle of that bar fight. Merlin was a genuinely good and caring person. He devoted himself heart and soul to those he considered friends. His actions had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was a friend to Arthur and to Camelot.

So when the sorrowful expression crossed the warlock's face, and then was quickly buried under a mask, it occurred to Gwaine that Merlin was probably very accustomed to hiding his emotions. After all, how many times must he have had to stand by and listen to Arthur talk about the evils and dangers of magic-users? Gwaine suddenly felt frustrated and compassionate at the same time. He leaned forward and caught the Warlock's eyes.

"Merlin. You don't have to hide your emotions from me. I know you, I know how devastated you must be right now. I forgive you for not telling me your secret, but I won't forgive you if you continue to lie to me."

His friend gave him the shadow of a smile. "I don't mean to lie to you Gwaine, it's just that if I let my emotions out now, I won't be able to do everything I need to do before I leave." He paused, and his mask slipped for a moment. "Thank you for being such a good friend Gwaine, your friendship right now means more to me than I can ever say."

Gwaine nodded in acknowledgement and let it go, for now. "What do you need to do before you leave? And where do you plan to go?"

Merlin glanced at Gaius, who nodded, and then got up and started pacing, restless energy almost vibrating in the air around him. Gwaine had noticed before that Merlin was very rarely still, and now he wondered if that was because of his magic. Now that he knew what to look for he could almost see the constrained power rippling beneath the warlock's skin. He wondered how on earth he had never noticed it before.

Merlin was rattling off a list of things to Gwaine and Gaius, counting them off on his long fingers.

"First I need to ward Arthur's and Gwen's rooms, then I need to put some protective spells on Arthur's armor and his horse. I need to ward the castle, and the entrance to the town, and I need to create spells that will warn me if any powerful sorcerers or people with ill intent enter the Camelot. I need to figure out a way for you to communicate with me in case something happens, and I should try and figure out that transportation spell that Morgana used… I need to pack, I should definitely take my spell book with me, and the sidhe staff…"

"Merlin," Gaius cut off his rambling, "How are you going to get to Arthur and Gwen's rooms to ward them, and how are you going to get access to Arthur's horse and armor?"

Merlin stopped pacing and blinked, then rushed to his room, returning with his spell book. He flipped through it frantically until he found the page he wanted, then showed it to the physician. Gwaine got up and looked over their shoulders, but the book was written in a language he had never seen before.

"I can use this," said Merlin, "if I do it right no one will even notice me."

"That's a risky and unpredictable spell, my boy," said Gaius.

"I know," said Merlin, "but what's the worst that can happen? Everyone already knows I'm a sorcerer." Merlin snorted.

Merlin turned to Gwaine to explain. "It's a spell that will hopefully deflect attention away from me. As long as no one recognizes me, no one should even notice that I'm there." He rifled through Gaius' cupboard and pulled out a long cloak with a hood.

"Merlin…" Merlin turned towards Gwaine again. "These protective spells you want to place on Arthur's armor, and around Camelot, why haven't you done them before?"

"Well it would have been really obvious that there was a sorcerer around if any arrows or knives that came at Arthur just stopped in mid air. I'm always around personally to protect him with more subtle methods, so I've never bothered."

"Falling tree branches, clumsy bandits…" Gwaine realized.

"Exactly." Merlin grinned. "As for the wards around Camelot, it honestly never occurred to me before to try it. I don't have any spells for that, so I'm going to have to try and create some." The warlock's mind raced with ideas of how he could do it. He often used magic without spells, the spells were really only a way to guide his magic in definite ways, but even a single spell could be used for multiple purposes, depending on the intent of the caster. Logically, he should be able to create his own spells using the old language, as long as he was really focused on what he wanted to achieve. It was a theory he'd been wanting to test for a while, but he had been worried about what Gaius would say if he caught him experimenting.

"Merlin!" Gaius admonished, "you've never attempted anything like this before, creating spells is a very tricky art that takes years of experience to master." Gaius sighed as he looked at his ward, he was all to familiar with that stubborn look on the warlock's face. He obviously wasn't going to be able to talk him out of trying it anyway. "But, if anyone can do it, you can."

Merlin smiled at him gratefully, and then put on the cloak. He pulled the hood over his face, looked down at the spell book and said, "_ne __becépaþ __mé_".

Gaius and Gwaine looked around in confusion, wondering where Merlin had gone, and paying no attention to the cloaked figure standing right in front of them. Merlin pulled down his hood and smiled. As soon as they saw his face, they both blinked and Gwaine burst out laughing.

"That's amazing! Just imagine all the fun you could have with a spell like that…" Gwaine smiled devilishly and Gaius raised a disapproving eyebrow.

Gaius stood up and walked towards the door. "I'll leave so you can follow me out the door, and I'll stay outside until you need to get back in. Gwaine will have to stay here to keep up pretenses." Gwaine blinked at how accomplished Gaius seemed to be at aiding Merlin in his harebrained schemes. He wouldn't have guessed that the seemingly respectable old man had it in him.

Gwaine was slightly in awe of both of them as Merlin disappeared again and Gaius swept out the door. Obviously, Merlin felt responsible for the well being of the entire city, if the spells he wanted to cast were any indication. And after seeing him perform magic with so much ease and grace, and Gaius' obvious faith in him, it was clear to Gwaine that Merlin had been acting as Camelot's sole magical protector for quite some time. All the narrow escapes they'd had, immortal armies that just disappeared, enemies that just vanished, never to be seen again… As soon as Gwaine started to put the pieces together, he wondered how on earth no one had ever noticed. Perhaps they had just been so happy to triumph against impossible odds that they hadn't bothered to think about how unlikely it was. In fact, since meeting Arthur, Gwaine had become almost accustomed to impossible victories. He had thought it was the result Arthur's skill as a warrior and a leader, and Gwaine's own brand of luck, but now he realized that all along it had probably been Merlin. Did Arthur even realize how lucky he was? Apparently not, since he had banished his most loyal and powerful protector.

Gwaine had always marveled at the loyalty Merlin freely gave to Arthur. It was one of the things that had first drawn him to the manservant, he had wanted a friendship equally as strong. Now that bond seemed even rarer and more marvelous, and Gwaine wondered exactly what it was that Arthur had done to earn the loyalty of such a powerful sorcerer. He had always thought that Arthur didn't show Merlin nearly enough appreciation, and Gwaine hadn't even known half of what Merlin did for his king.

Why had Merlin risked his life to live in Camelot and work as a servant? Gwaine knew that it must have something to do with Arthur, but he couldn't figure out what.

He would ask Merlin when he returned. Gwaine had the feeling that there was even more to his secretive friend than he had yet revealed. Gwaine stood up and began to rifle through the physician's chamber for some wine. If any more shocks were coming his way, he was going to need a drink.

* * *

_ne __becépaþ __mé - _Don't notice me

**A/N - Sorry it's been a little while since I updated, I have lyme disease and some weeks I have more energy than others. I want to try and write at least 2 chapters a week, we'll see how it goes.**

**This chapter got away from me a little bit, it's a lot longer than I thought it would be, so I've split it into 2 parts. It's a lot harder to actually get Merlin to leave Camelot than I thought it would be! Poor warlock, he's always so busy...**


	5. Merlin's Epic Departure, Part 2

**A/N: Based on the suggestion of BriefShiningMoment I've edited the first chapter a little so that I can lower the rating of this fic and hopefully reach a broader audience. I haven't changed anything important, just some of the more explicit phrasing.**

**Reshma - I think that when I said Merlin wanted to earn forgiveness, it might have been better to say he wanted to earn trust. I don't think he has anything to apologize for either, but he has been lying to his friends. Even if he had no choice, Arthur will still have to realize that and decide to forgive him for it.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

* * *

**Chapter 5: Merlin's Epic Departure, Part 2**

_Gaius stood up and walked towards the door. "I'll leave so you can follow me out the door, and I'll stay outside until you need to get back in. Gwaine will have to stay here to keep up pretenses." Gwaine blinked at how accomplished Gaius seemed to be at aiding Merlin in his harebrained schemes. He wouldn't have guessed that the seemingly respectable old man had it in him._

_Gwaine was slightly in awe of both of them as Merlin disappeared again and Gaius swept out the door. Obviously, Merlin felt responsible for the wellbeing of the entire city, if the spells he wanted to cast were any indication. And after seeing him perform magic with so much ease and grace, and Gaius' obvious faith in him, it was clear to Gwaine that Merlin had been acting as Camelot's sole magical protector for quite some time. All the narrow escapes they'd had, immortal armies that just disappeared, enemies that just vanished and were never seen again… As soon as Gwaine started to put the pieces together, he wondered how on earth no one had ever noticed. Perhaps they had just been so happy to triumph against impossible odds that they hadn't bothered to think about how unlikely it was. In fact, since meeting Arthur, Gwaine had become almost accustomed to impossible victories. He had thought it was the result Arthur's skill as a warrior and a leader, and Gwaine's own brand of luck, but now he realized that all along it had probably been Merlin. Did Arthur even realize how lucky he was? Apparently not, since he had banished his most loyal and powerful protector._

Merlin was enjoying himself as he walked the familiar path towards Arthur's chambers in Gaius' hooded cloak. This spell was brilliant, he wished he'd tried it out before now. All the servants he passed were aware of his presence to the extent that they didn't walk right into him, but they took no notice of the mysterious cloaked figure creeping around the castle.

He headed first to Gwen's chambers, where Gwen's stuck-up blond lady in waiting took no notice of him, even as he opened and shut the door rather loudly. She didn't even glance his way when he began to burn tiny runic symbols of protection into the floorboards at strategic places around the room, although she did sniff the air and look a little confused when she obviously smelled something burning and couldn't locate the source. Merlin snickered a little and chanted the words to complete the protection spell. No one with any ill intent towards Gwen would be able to enter the room, and anything thrown through the windows or doorways would be repelled, including weaker spells. He quickly added another line to the spell and keyed it to a round silver button he found on Gwen's bedside table. Now if something activated his spell he would know. Hopefully. He was kind of making this up as he went.

He thought for a moment, and then walked over to Gwen's wardrobe and considered her dresses. She had a lot more now that she was queen. He remembered her saying once that beautiful dresses were like armour for a woman. Gwen was a seamstress at heart, and she always insisted that in the right dress any woman could feel like a queen.

Merlin cast the same spells on Gwen's dresses that he planned to put on Arthur's armour. They were similar to the protection spell on the room, but without using runes to anchor the spell he had to be a lot more specific and weave the intricate spells together in such a way that they wouldn't interfere with each other. The first dress took a long time, and Merlin wished he had even longer to test if the spells he had chosen would actually hold together, but he knew he didn't have enough time. He just hoped that they wouldn't be necessary, and that what he had done would be enough.

As a small test, and with a whispered apology to Gwen in case it didn't work, he sent a small fireball at a pink muslin dress she didn't wear very often. He grinned in triumph as the fireball fizzled into nothing a foot away from the cloth. Now Gwen's dresses really would be her armour.

* * *

Merlin walked through the door that connected Gwen's room with Arthur's, and froze when he saw Arthur curled up asleep on his bed, with his head in Gwen's lap. She was stroking his hair tenderly, and there were tears tracks on her cheeks. Merlin couldn't see Arthur's face, but the way he was lying with his legs tucked under him and his shoulders slumped made him looked hurt and tired.

Merlin knew that he should leave, this was a private moment of weakness that Arthur would never want him to see. But…he didn't know how long the spell would last and he had so much to do…

Merlin hurried around the room carving runes, trying to wave away the burning smell so that the royal couple wouldn't notice.

On the bed Arthur shifted and sat up, and Merlin realized that he wasn't sleeping after all.

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered, and Gwen grasped his face in her hands and fiercely shook her head.

"Don't ever be sorry for letting me in, Arthur Pendragon. Don't ever be sorry." She kissed him gently and he relaxed into her embrace.

Merlin looked away guiltily and chanted the words to the protection spell, keying it to a small silver ring with the Pendragon crest that Arthur never wore. He doubted the king would even notice it was gone. He slipped it into his pocket next to Gwen's silver button.

He looked guiltily at the bed again. Arthur's eyes were red and puffy, and he looked exhausted. Merlin wanted to comfort him, but he knew that he was the reason Arthur was in pain and it made his stomach clench and his heart throb. Anger he could deal with, even icy indifference, but not this naked hurt.

Merlin walked over to Arthur's armour, and began to place slightly modified protection splells on it. Unlike Gwen's dresses, Arthur's armour would be used in training, and it would be far too obvious if the knights couldn't land a blow anywhere near him, or if Arthur couldn't feel the blows. Instead, Merlin made sure that no arrow would ever come close to touching his king. Blades would be unable to slide between the separated plates, and as long as Arthur was wearing even a small piece of his armour nothing would ever hit him in the head hard enough to hurt him. His days of lying around unconscious and vulnerable while Merlin fought his battles were over.

The specific and intricate spells took all of the warlock's concentration, and when he was finally finished he was starting to feel a little bit tired. It was unusual for him to cast so many spells in such a short period of time.

He turned back to regard the couple on the bed one more time. They were now lying side by side, Gwen's head cradled on Arthur's shoulder, their hands clasped together.

"Why did he have to be such an idiot?" Arthur murmured. Merlin stepped closer, mentally berating himself but not able to resist the opportunity to learn what Arthur really thought about him. "Maybe if he had just told me… why didn't he trust me?"

"Arthur, you know why he didn't tell you. He was scared, and with good reason."

"But if he had just told me, if the rest of the bloody kingdom hadn't found out, then maybe I wouldn't have had to banish him. Everything could just continue as it was."

"Could it really?" Gwen asked. "You said that he has lost your trust, and that would still be true. Could you really treat him the same way, knowing he's a warlock?"

"No," Arthur whispered, "I'll never be able to see him the same way, I'll always be wondering what else he was lying about, whether anything he ever told me was the truth." Arthur's breath hitched, and his voice became even quieter. Merlin had to lean closer to hear him. "In the dungeons, it hurt just to look at him because he looks exactly the same as always, but it was all a lie. I thought… I thought he was the one person I could always trust."

"I think you can trust him," said Gwen, ignoring the unintentional barb in her husband's words. "It's obvious that he loves you, and magic or not he's still Merlin. He's the same person he always was, we just know more about him now. He didn't keep secrets to hurt you, he did it to protect himself, and us."

"It's more than just the secrets Guinevere, although that's bad enough. It's the magic itself, and the deception. It was so easy for him to break the law, so easy for him to make me believe that he was harmless, when he has powers that no honourable man should ever wield. The man that I thought was my best friend never existed at all." Arthur shuddered and let out a dry, weary sob, hiding his face in Gwen's hair.

Merlin felt a silent tear roll down his cheek. He wanted to throw off his cloak and tell Arthur that he was still his friend, and always would be. Arthur's words pierced his heart deeply, because they were true. He had lied, he had deceived, he had played the fool and made Arthur believe him to be an idiot. Arthur had never had the chance to know the real Merlin. But he had done it to protect him. Didn't that count for anything? He had never wanted Arthur to see him as anything less than his equal, but he had had no choice.

Merlin turned away and reined in his emotions. He couldn't bear to hear any more. He could only hope that one day Arthur would understand why he had done what he had done. He could only hope that Arthur would forgive him for the pain he had caused.

The warlock turned back towards his friends one more time. Gwen had pulled Arthur close and was whispering to him, telling him that she was here and that it was going to be alright. Merlin wasn't sure when he would see either of them again, and he wanted to remember them just as they were in this moment, together and united against everything the world would throw at them. They would need each other, now more than ever. Merlin wished he could wipe the tears from Gwen's eyes, smooth the tense lines from Arthur's brow. Together they would build the greatest kingdom the world would ever see, but in that moment Merlin wished he could spare them from the burden of kingship. He loved them both so fiercely, and Merlin silently vowed once again to do everything he could to shelter them from harm.

As he turned and left the room, Merlin felt a momentary pang of jealousy and loneliness. Arthur and Gwen had each other, but Merlin had no one to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay. Arthur and Gwen had Merlin to protect them, even if they didn't know it, but who did Merlin have? He pushed aside the ugly emotions as a foolish indulgence, but he couldn't make them disappear completely. They remained trapped inside the darkest part of his heart.

* * *

Merlin's mood was much more somber the second time he walked through the castle unnoticed. Suddenly the complete lack of attention wasn't fun, it was lonely. He felt like a ghost, or a shadow.

He slipped quietly into the stable and leaned quietly against Arthur's favorite horse. The mare nickered softly and nudged at his pockets for treats. Apparently the spell didn't work on horses, but that was all right. Merlin whispered endearments and spells to her, and her warm, solid presence comforted him. He kissed her velvety nose and then stepped out of her stall, feeling a bit better, but still melancholy. He was mentally saying goodbye to everything that made up his day to day life. The stables, the horses, the people who passed by and took no notice of him. The way the setting sun shone on the castle, the sounds of the town. He had never realized how much it all meant to him until he had to leave it all behind.

* * *

Merlin headed towards the inner gate, passing by the practice fields. He noticed a group of knights clustered near the sidelines, heads bent in serious discussion, and guessed what they were talking about. When he noticed Percival's head sticking up above the rest, and Leon's bushy hair among them, he couldn't resist drifting over to eavesdrop.

As he drew closer, he heard one of the older knights, Sir Cormac, spit on the ground and say, "Good riddance to sorcerer scum, I only wish the King had ordered his execution, we can't afford to be sentimental about traitorous bastards."

The stocky knight's eyes widened comically as Percival bodily hoisted him up by his chainmail and hissed at his face. "Merlin is a good and loyal man, and if I ever hear you refer to him that way again I'll put your face through a tree. Do you understand?"

The unfortunate knight's face was an odd shade of red, and his feet dangled above the ground. He nodded and gasped for air as Percival dropped him back to the ground.

Merlin was shocked, and touched. Percival looked threatening, but he almost never used his size and strength to intimidate others, he preferred to find a peaceful solution.

Leon moved to stand beside Percival in a clear display of solidarity. "Merlin saved the life of the king when we were helpless to protect him. We owe him a debt of gratitude and I would suggest that no one forget it."

A few of the knights nodded and looked thoughtful. Leon was very well respected among them.

Merlin smiled and continued walking towards the gates. He had more friends than he had ever guessed.

* * *

At the gate, Merlin paused and sat down to consider his next move. He need to create a spell similar to the protection spells that he'd placed on Gwen and Arthur's rooms, but he didn't think he was powerful enough to protect the entire castle that way. But then, all he really needed was a spell that would detect ill-intent and magical ability. It had to be specific enough that it wouldn't be activated by someone who intended some small mischief, like cheating at cards, but broad enough to detect threats that Merlin hadn't yet thought of. He thought that the easiest way to achieve his goal would be to key the spell to detect the end result of a persons intentions, not the means they intended to use. Therefore, he needed a spell that would alert him if anyone entered the castle who intended to kill Arthur, Gwen, or Gaius, or take the throne, or kill a large amount of people. He thought for a while, and then decided it would be most stable if he anchored it with runes. He carefully decided on the combination he would need, and the incantation he would use, while he walked to the outer limits of the town. Since it wasn't actually a protection spell, he thought he should be able to place it around all of Camelot, not just the castle. He walked all the way around the town, carving runes into any fist-sized stones he found at strategic intervals. By the time he had completed the full circuit around Camelot it was almost dark.

The warlock stood in the middle of the main road, closed his eyes and concentrated as hard as he could on his intended result. He slowly began the rather long incantation he had created. He had tried to make it simple but still specific, with no room for misinterpretation.

Merlin felt almost giddy as the power stirred beneath his skin, flowing out of his body and into the ground below him to form a glowing line that he could see in his mind's eye, encircling the city he had grown to love. He keyed the spell to a thin wire bracelet that Gwen had given him years ago. The warlock pushed as much power as he could into the spell and then staggered as he felt it release and almost fell to the ground from the force of it.

Merlin couldn't contain his grin as he walked back into the city. He couldn't see anything different but he could _feel _it tingle across his skin as he passed through the gate. He felt tired but exhilarated with his success. He couldn't say how he knew, but he was certain that he had succeeded. He could almost feel his intentions echoing along the spell, and he knew that anyone with magic would be able to feel it too. They would know that Camelot was protected.

* * *

When he passed by the tavern on the way back to the castle, Merlin saw Percival and Leon walking inside, and made the impulsive decision to follow them. He wanted to thank them, and he didn't know when he would get another opportunity to do so.

When Merlin entered, the two knights had seated themselves at a table in the back corner and settled in to nurse their tankards of mead and have a serious discussion about the events of the day. Merlin slid in on the other side of the table, with his back to the rest of the tavern hopefully no one would see his face and recognize him.

"...he was the only one not affected by the Lamia… Gah!" Said Leon as Merlin slid his hood just far enough off his face to make himself recognizable to the knights in front of him. Percival choked on his mead and Merlin reached over to slap him on the back unhelpfully.

"Merlin?" Said Leon, obviously shocked.

"Sorry," said Merlin, grinning unrepentantly, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Leon shook his head and stared at the warlock incredulously. "We went by to see you earlier, and Gwaine said you were wandering around the castle invisible, but it's one thing to hear it from Gwaine and another thing to see it, err, or not see it."

Merlin laughed again. "Sorry, there were some protective spells I wanted to put in place before I left, and I couldn't exactly walk around in full view of everyone."

Leon was clearly shocked by Merlin's blatant use of magic, but he looked more curious than afraid, which Merlin took as a very good sign. Leon had been raised in Camelot, and if he could overcome decades of prejudice then Merlin could dare to hope that others could do the same.

Percival had now recovered, and he reached over to slap Merlin on the shoulder in a friendly way that Merlin was sure would leave bruises. "That was a brave thing you did on the battlements today, Merlin. You don't deserve to be banished for it."

Merlin felt his eyes involuntarily filling with tears (again), and he had to look down for a moment before he replied. In a way this was what he'd always wanted, to sit in the tavern and tell his battle stories, to have his deeds praised by the men he respected. To be acknowledged as an equal by the bravest men he knew.

Merlin wrangled his emotions back into the cage inside his chest and then looked at Leon and Percival again.

"I need to head back and gather my things, but I just wanted to thank you for defending my honour earlier. I heard what you said to Sir Cormac, and I can't tell you how much it means to me that you still trust me. After all my lies, it's more than I ever expected. Thank you." He swallowed back the tangle of emotions in his throat and cracked a smile. "Take care of Arthur while I'm gone, the gods know the prat needs all the help he can get. And tell Elyan… tell him I'm sorry, and I never meant to scare him. Tell him I forgive him for being afraid."

His sincere blue gaze pierced the knights for a long moment, and then he pulled the hood back over his face and disappeared before their eyes. They stared at the place he had been sitting moments before, and then jumped as a crash sounded near the door. They looked up and saw a rough looking man with a rather large tankard apparently stuck on his rather small head. The barmaid he had been harassing moments before was laughing hysterically and the man's equally rough looking companions were trying to figure out what had happened.

"I'm telling you, it just floated up and stuck itself on his head!"

Percival and Leon looked at each other and burst out laughing.

* * *

Merlin found Gaius waiting around the corner from his chambers. He followed the physician back inside and then threw off his cloak, beaming.

"I take it your efforts were successful?" Gaius asked.

"I think so," said Merlin, "at least it _felt_ like it worked. Can I keep this cloak? It's really useful. I ran into Leon and Percival as well, said goodbye."

As he spoke Merlin walked into his room and pulled out his old leather bag. He started throwing all his possessions into it haphazardly, somewhat thankful that he didn't actually own very much. His clothes, a few books, a hunting dagger, a small bag of coins he had saved, his magic book, the small wooden dragon Balinor had carved for him…

When he returned to the main room, Gwaine was seated at the table and Gaius was bustling about, gathering vials and pieces of cloth into a small wooden box. He gave the box to Merlin.

Merlin opened it and realized it was a rudimentary healer's kit. He glanced at Gaius, startled.

"While you're definitely not a natural born healer, I've managed to teach you at least some of the physician's art. I hope that you will use those skills wisely."

Merlin felt a lump in his throat, and he threw his arms around the man who had become like a father to him.

"I am so proud of you, my boy," said Gaius as they embraced. "One day Arthur will appreciate everything you have done for him, but I think you are wise to leave, at least for now. I know that one day you will return to us, and when you do you will always have a home with me."

Gaius' voice was rough with emotion and Gwaine had to look away, feeling that he shouldn't be present for such a private moment.

Gaius drew back from his ward, steadying himself with his hands on the warlock's shoulders.

"I'm going to miss you, Gaius," said Merlin, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat again.

"I'll miss you too," Gaius sighed. "Merlin, listen to me for moment. You have had far too much weight on your shoulders for far too long. You are too young to have been trapped by such responsibility, and I regret that there wasn't more I could do to ease your burden. You have done everything you can here, for now. My hope for you is that you will take this time to truly be young. Life is too short for you to waste your youth. Go, explore the world, and when you return Camelot will be the better for it."

Merlin embraced him again. He couldn't believe that this was really it, he was really leaving. It was all happening too fast…

Merlin pulled away with a gasp. "I almost forgot," he exclaimed, and pulled two of Gaius' blank journals from the bookshelf. He put one hand over each journal and chanted something that made his eyes glow gold.

"Done!" Merlin put one journal in his bag and gave the other to Gaius.

"An essence linking spell? Very clever," said Gaius.

Merlin turned to Gwaine. "What is written in one book will appear in the other. This way you can write to me, no matter where I go."

Gwaine smiled as he considered all the possible applications of such a spell. "That's bloody brilliant, Merlin!"

Merlin beamed at him, and it occurred to Gwaine (not for the first time) that Merlin didn't get nearly enough praise.

* * *

Merlin and Gwaine walked in silence towards the outer gate. They had left Gaius in his chambers. Neither the physician nor the warlock could bear to prolong their goodbyes any longer. Merlin still wore Gaius' blue cloak, but with the hood down, and he carried his leather satchel and the sidhe staff.

The guards who had waited outside of Gaius' door all afternoon followed at a somewhat discreet distance behind them.

Merlin had left a letter for Arthur with Gaius. He hadn't really expected Arthur to come see him off, but there was so much left unresolved between them that Merlin felt like he couldn't just leave without telling him at least a little of what was in his heart. Merlin wasn't worried about saying goodbye to Gwen, he suspected he would be hearing from her very soon through the spelled journal. And he wasn't sure he could bear any more goodbyes.

Merlin and Gwaine paused just inside the outer gates. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Asked Gwaine.

Merlin smiled at him gratefully. "I'm sure. I need you to stay here, to look after Gaius and keep Arthur from being too much of a prat while I'm gone."

"You're so sure that you'll be able to come back," Gwaine marveled.

Merlin grinned. "A dragon once told me it was my destiny to protect Arthur. Unfortunately the bloody cryptic lizard hasn't yet been wrong."

Gwaine shook his head wryly. "I feel like there's still so much you haven't told me."

"It's not because I don't want to," explained Merlin, looking into Gwaine's eyes and willing him to see the truth of his words. "It's just a very long and complicated story, and I don't have enough time to tell it all properly. If you ask Gaius he'll be able to tell you a lot of what you want to know."

"I'd rather hear it from you, but I guess that will have to do for now. Write us lots, alright? If you don't Gaius will worry." So would Gwaine, but he didn't bother saying it out loud.

Merlin embraced him. "I will, don't worry." Merlin grinned mischievously. "Any advice on how to be a rootless wanderer?"

Gwaine considered for a moment. "Always keep some coins in the soles of your boots, never stay in the home of a woman who isn't happy, don't take alcohol from strangers and if you ever happen to meet a red-headed lass named Maeve don't tell her you know me."

Merlin laughed and released his friend. Gwaine gestured for the guards on duty to open the gate, and with a final glance backwards the warlock left the city alone.

* * *

Merlin stood just outside the gates of Camelot, and it finally hit him that he was leaving. His feet felt rooted to the ground. He was leaving. Leaving the city that had become his home. Leaving Arthur, and Gwen and Gaius and Gwaine and all the knights, leaving his little room in the physician's chambers. Leaving his daily trips to the kitchens, his verbal sparring with the king, the pranks Gwaine was constantly trying to involve him in, Gaius' lectures… He was leaving all the people and places that had made up his life for so long, setting out on a journey into the darkness with no clear idea of where he was going…

Suddenly, Merlin felt like he couldn't breathe, his lungs had seized in panic, and he considered turning around, running to the king's chambers and begging Arthur to let him stay…

No. This is what had to happen. He couldn't falter now.

Merlin closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Now was the time to take a leap of faith. At the heart of it, this was all a question of trust.

Trust, in destiny, that somehow, someway, he would find his way back again.

Trust, in himself, that he could survive in the unknown.

Trust, in Arthur, that he could become the wise and merciful king that Albion so desperately needed.

Slowly, he took one step forward, then another. With each step it got a little easier, and he started walking faster, losing himself in the movement, focusing on nothing but the feel of the breeze on his face and the ground beneath his feet and the muscles in his legs swinging forward. Suddenly he was running, and with a flash of his eyes his satchel and staff were floating along beside him. His cloak flared behind him like wings, pulling against his neck as he ran faster and faster, and a feeling he realized was joy radiated from his stomach and gave his limbs the strength to move even faster. He grinned and drew the cool night air into his lungs. It smelled of rain and growth and change, and Merlin realized he was no longer afraid.

Merlin ran just for the joy of running and realized that for the first time in years, he felt… free. He didn't know where he was going, or how he was going to get there, or what the future held, but the possibilities seemed as endless and exhilarating as the stars in the sky. He could go anywhere he wanted to go, be anyone he wanted to be. The farther he got from Camelot the freer he felt, because outside of Camelot he was undefined by destiny. Even if it was only for a short time, he felt like he was leaving behind all his worries and responsibilities and sorrows.

Merlin ran so quickly and so freely that it almost felt like he was flying.

And then he was.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that was a little more angsty than I had originally intended, but I hope I managed to pull on your heart strings a little. Coming up next, Merlin's letter to Arthur, Arthur's first day without Merlin, and how Merlin got a job in a tavern.**

**Please review and let me know if you like it so far :)**


	6. An Epic Case of Separation Anxiety

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

* * *

**Chapter 6: An Epic Case of Separation Anxiety**

_Merlin ran just for the joy of running and realized that for the first time in years, he felt… free. He didn't know where he was going, or how he was going to get there, or what the future held, but the possibilities seemed as endless and exhilarating as the stars in the sky. He could go anywhere he wanted to go, be anyone he wanted to be. The farther he got from Camelot the freer he felt, because outside of Camelot he was undefined by destiny. Even if it was only for a short time, he felt like he was leaving behind all his worries and responsibilities and sorrows._

_Merlin ran so quickly and so freely that it almost felt like he was flying._

_And then he was._

Merlin felt his feet leave the ground with a lurch, a sudden wind gusting with enough force underneath him to momentarily suspend him above the ground and push him forwards for a few glorious seconds. With a yelp he realized that he was actually _flying_, sort of, and as reality crashed in on him he also crashed back down to the road, skidding on his stomach a ways before sliding to an undignified stop.

Merlin remained lying on the ground for a few moments, winded. His knees and forearms stung and his breath came in short gasps. Had that really just happened? He often felt that he didn't really understand the full extent of his powers, but flying? He'd never heard of any sorcerer being able to fly.

Merlin stumbled back to his feet and looked behind him. He could still see the outline of the citadel, he really hadn't gotten very far yet. Merlin turned away and resolved not to stop again until he couldn't see Camelot any more.

Merlin started walking down the road again, and then running, trying to replicate the circumstances of his brief flight but with little success. He ran, he jumped, he flapped his arms about, he even tried summoning the winds but nothing worked. He did manage to fall on his face several times though. He was glad that the road was deserted at this time of night, he knew he probably looked like the idiot Arthur always called him. Still, it was a good distraction, and he could just imagine Arthur's face if he _flew _back to Camelot, probably just in time to save them from some terrifying magical threat…

After about an hour he gave in to his exhaustion and just walked, and a few hours before dawn he stopped to sleep in a small copse of trees, close to a small stream. He stumbled around collecting firewood for a few minutes, and magically lit a fire to keep him warm and safe, just like he always did when he travelled with Arthur and his knights. He had no bedroll, but he used a tree root as a pillow and wrapped himself tightly in his cloak. It wasn't very comfortable, but he was so tired he almost didn't care. Thankfully, he fell asleep almost immediately, and when he woke the next morning he couldn't remember his dreams.

* * *

Just before dawn, Arthur drifted in a state somewhere between sleeping and waking, comfortable on his luxurious feather mattress. Distantly, he felt Gwen's warm body snuggled against his side, and felt content. In a far off corner of his mind he knew Merlin would come crashing through the door soon, bringing with him a tray of breakfast and an annoying comment. The idiot would make noise and open the curtains so that the light shone directly on Arthur's face…

Abruptly, Arthur jerked his body upwards with a gasp. Merlin! There was something wrong with Merlin… Arthur felt a weight settle onto his chest as he recalled the events of yesterday. Merlin was a sorcerer. Oh gods, if only that had been just a nightmare…

Gwen stirred beside him and he stroked her hair soothingly until she settled back into sleep, but the same refuge was denied to him now.

He had given Merlin until dawn to leave Camelot, was he already gone? Arthur pushed back the blankets and swung his legs off the side of the bed, intending to walk down to Gaius' chambers immediately… but then he paused and sank back onto his bed. What on earth would he do when he got there? He wasn't going to rescind the banishment. What more was there to say? He didn't want to hear any more excuses, he didn't want to _feel_ anything about this situation anymore. He knew if he saw Merlin again it would just make it all harder.

Arthur lay down on his bed and tried to fall back to sleep. He was determined not to let Merlin's betrayal affect his life any more than it already had done. His breakdown yesterday had been enough, now it was time to move on. He didn't need Merlin in his life, he never really did. He needed to stop depending on other people and stand alone, just like his father had. Trust was a luxury that kings couldn't afford, he understood that now.

Arthur lay on his bed and stared blankly at the ceiling until the dawn arrived. When a polite knock on the door announced the arrival of his breakfast, and his new manservant, he tried to be glad.

* * *

Merlin felt warm, moist breaths stirring his hair, and he was quickly and unpleasantly jolted back into the conscious world by a sharp tug on his hair. The warlock sat up with an undignified yelp, only to come face to face with liquid black eyes, ears that stuck out even more than his own and a wooly white face.

Merlin blinked at the sheep, and the sheep blinked back at him.

Well. This was different.

Usually Merlin woke up to Gaius' significantly less wooly face and the smell of porridge. Merlin blinked blearily at the sun, which was already high in the sky. He usually wasn't allowed to sleep this long, even when he was up late the night before. It was kind of nice, but disorienting.

His fire had gone out in the night, and Merlin shivered a little in the wet autumn chill as he stretched the kinks out of his back, the sheep following his movements with its triangular head. It seemed that sleeping on the damp ground had not been kind to his body, Merlin almost felt like he had cast that ageing spell again.

The thought of Dragoon brought back with a rush everything that had happened yesterday. The memory of Arthur miserably curled up in Gwen's lap was especially vivid, as was his cold pronouncement of Merlin's banishment. Damn. That definitely could have gone better.

Merlin had always hoped that one day Arthur would know about his magic and recognize everything that he had done for him, but lately he had started to believe that that would never happen. He hadn't stopped working to change Arthur's views on magic, but in the back of his mind he had started to think that even if magic were free again, he couldn't bear to tell Arthur that he was a warlock. Somehow, he had become the one person Arthur depended on more than any other, and he was loath to shatter his friend's illusions. He had known that the revelation of his abilities would hurt Arthur, but knowing it and actually seeing the results of his deception were two different things.

Well, he supposed it could have gone worse, as well. He had genuinely feared for his life during Uther's reign, and he was grateful that those days were over. Gwen had taken it really well, and Gwaine, and Leon and Percival… the memory of their support and understanding eased the painful knot inside his chest. Perhaps he never should have doubted them, but it was hard to erase a lifetime of fear and caution.

And Arthur… as much as it hurt Merlin to see him so upset, it was incontrovertible proof that Arthur _cared. _The Arthur that had confronted him in the dungeons had been so cold and distant and seemingly unfeeling. Arthur had always been too proud to even admit that Merlin was his friend, unless it looked like one or both of them was about to die. Merlin knew, or at least he thought he knew, that he was more than just a servant to the king, but sometimes when Arthur was throwing goblets at his head or acting like his opinion was unimportant or treating him like a useless idiot it made him feel so small and worthless, and it was hard to remember that Arthur cared about him. The fact that Arthur had been so affected by his deception meant that Merlin _mattered_ to the king, an assurance that Merlin needed more than he cared to admit.

Merlin sighed as he attempted to straighten out his clothes and retied his red neckerchief. That damned red neckerchief, the same one that had drawn the attention of the nightmare bull that had knocked Arthur off the battlements and landed Merlin in this mess. Merlin sighed again. He supposed it was unfair to blame his neckerchief, this mess had been a long time coming. He had built a life out of lies and half-truths and it had taken only one moment for it all to come crashing down around him.

Merlin mused on the nightmare bull (or so he had named it in his head, it was better than calling it the _giant-scary-bull-creature-thing_) as he chewed on some slightly squashed bread and hard cheese that Gaius had thrust into his bag last night. Where had it come from? Why had it attacked? It had been surprisingly easy to kill, a knight could have managed it, although not as easily as Merlin had.

For that matter, how had they gotten the body off the battlements? The warlock's sleep-addled mind wandered from its original purpose. The corpse would be too big to fit through the door...Merlin winced. There were only two options he could think of: they had either rolled the massive bull over the wall and into the courtyard below (Merlin grimaced at the imaginary _splat_), or they had cut it up into manageable pieces and carried it down the stairs. Maybe they had taken it down to the kitchens… Merlin snickered, suddenly glad he wouldn't be around to eat in the castle for the next few weeks. He hoped that they wouldn't actually try and butcher a giant magical creature, but he wouldn't put anything past the palace cooks. Some of the things they had served were downright suspicious, and that was really saying something, coming from a man who cooked a passable rat and bathwater stew.

The warlock's wooly breakfast companion eyed his bread hopefully but Merlin refused to give in to its hungry black eyes. The sheep could survive on grass, Merlin couldn't. Probably.

* * *

Arthur sat listening to his council of lords arguing about boundary disputes for the third consecutive hour and just barely resisted the urge to slump forward and beat his head against the table. The long, rectangular table in the council room. His mind had wandered away from the petty bickering long ago, and now he was thinking about the traditions of the kings of old, and their ideas about equality and interior decorating. Certainly, if the table were round he might have a chance of actually hearing the lords down at the other end, and he might actually be able to pay attention. But then, maybe he didn't really want to hear the ridiculous argument about whose serfs were using whose stream to water their fields.

Arthur smothered a sigh of exasperation and almost raised his hand to signal Merlin to poor him another glass of water, before he remembered that Merlin wasn't there. And never would be again.

George had brought Arthur's breakfast, and made his bed, and polished his armour… but no matter how efficient he was, he could never replace Merlin.

Arthur had stopped thinking of Merlin as just his manservant years ago, and started thinking of him as his… Merlin. He had a category all his own. He was the only servant who had been allowed to serve at council meetings. He accompanied Arthur on patrols and quests and rode beside him during battles. He was Arthur's confidant and advisor and speech writer and friend… or so Arthur had believed. Merlin had somehow insinuated himself into every aspect of Arthur's life, and Arthur had like it that way.

Arthur felt like half of him was missing. Merlin was like his extra arm, or second brain, or something. He missed the familiar presence at his back, making snide remarks about Lord Whytehorn's dalliances or Lord Corram's unfortunate hairstyle. Merlin had somehow kept him awake and amused during these interminable meetings with his whispered running commentary. Arthur would usually chastise him for his complete lack of respect once the meetings were finished but Merlin would always just grin at him, completely unrepentant, and Arthur usually had to turn away to hide his answering smile.

This meeting had been particularly brutal. It had begun with all the lords commiserating with Arthur and each other about the deviousness of sorcerers and Merlin in particular. Not that most of them even knew his name. No, to them he was just Arthur's manservant, easily replaced. They had grudgingly accepted that Arthur had banished him instead of executed him because he had saved the king's life, but they openly wondered about his ulterior motives. Even though Arthur had indulged similar thoughts, he wanted to tell them all to shut up and stop talking about things they didn't know anything about. Lord Osric in particular had made a point of telling everyone that he "always knew there was something wrong with that boy, the way he'd look you right in the eyes and talk like his opinion should matter always rubbed me the wrong way, he was always acting above his station." The king had barely resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

Arthur couldn't help but think that Merlin had in fact always _been_ above his station. He had been pretty terrible as a servant. He was clumsy, and disrespectful, and forgetful. But he was also intelligent, and brave, and apparently very powerful. He had only become Arthur's manservant because Uther had insisted on it, something that Arthur had both thanked and cursed his father for over the years.

He had managed to distract himself from thoughts of Merlin during training this morning by throwing every ounce of energy and anger he possessed into working his knights so hard that they wouldn't have the chance to say anything about Merlin. It had worked, mostly, but Gwaine had glared at him, and Percival had looked disappointed, and Arthur had done his best to lose himself in the familiar motions of blocking and thrusting and lunging and retreating, a deadly, complicated dance that required all of his attention.

He had refused to talk to Gwen about anything related to magic or Merlin over breakfast or lunch, and she had been annoyed with him. Ignoring the problem won't make it go away, she had told him, but he had insisted that there was no longer any problem. The only thing left to do was move on with their lives. Merlin was gone, and he wasn't coming back, and that was all that mattered.

But Arthur felt his absence more and more keenly as the day went on, and this council meeting had somehow brought everything that he had been trying not to think about all day to the front of his mind.

Arthur could tell that several of the lords disapproved of his decision to let Merlin live, but none had dared to openly question his decision. Ironically, Merlin was the only one at these meetings who had never been afraid to be honest with him. Or so he had believed. That thought made Arthur want to slam his face into the table again, and suddenly, he'd had enough.

Arthur straightened in his seat and banged his fist on the table, startling the bickering lords into silence.

"The stream shall become the new border between your lands, and the peasants shall share the water equally. Lord Hargren will mediate if one of you feels the other is taking more than his fair share of the water. Council dismissed."

When all the lords had filed out of the room, sending disapproving glances his way and muttering amongst themselves, Arthur finally allowed himself to slump over the table and rest his forehead against the cool wood. If Merlin were here, he would pat Arthur on the shoulder, sit down on one of the vacated chairs and make some idiotic remark about Arthur's sudden table-banging. Probably followed by a slightly off-colour joke that would leave the king equal parts exasperated and amused.

Arthur sighed and stood up. Clearly, pretending that Merlin had never existed wasn't working. He needed closure. He needed to understand exactly how things had ever gotten to this point, and there was only one man who could answer his questions left in Camelot.

Arthur was going to see Gaius. Perhaps the physician had some way of healing the persistent ache in his chest.

As he walked unaccompanied through the halls of his castle, Arthur felt very much alone. There were no clumsy footsteps following along behind him, and a significant lack of ridiculous prattle.

He should have known better than to take anything for granted. Twice, Morgana had stolen Camelot from him, stolen his home and his birthright. His Father had raised him and Morgana in a cocoon of lies. If Arthur had learned anything over the past few years it was that nothing is ever certain, not truths nor birthrights. But through every upheaval and disaster Merlin had always been his constant, the ever-present, cheerful, encouraging, forthright presence at his back. But now Merlin was gone, and everything had changed once again.

* * *

When Merlin had finished his breakfast, he gathered his things and continued walking down the road. He wasn't surprised when the sheep followed him. He felt a sort of kinship with the animal, after all they were both wandering by themselves, separated from their flocks. Directionless and alone. Merlin indulged his maudlin thoughts as he plodded down the dirt road with no real destination in mind.

It felt so odd to have absolutely nothing to do. Merlin hummed to himself and sang bawdy folk songs to his sheep. He paused and sat by a stream for 2 hours and contemplated the meaning of life and the unfairness of his existence. Just because he could. He spent a good hour ranting to his sheep about cryptic dragons and prat kings and destinies.

He named the sheep Clive, because he thought it suited him. He was a very good listener, although he was frequently distracted by juicy clumps of grass or clover. Merlin would always stop to wait for him. After all, he had nothing better to do.

His thoughts continuously returned to Arthur. He wondered what he was doing and what he was thinking and what he would say when he saw him again. He wondered if the king had read his letter yet, and if it had changed his mind at all.

For years, Merlin's life had revolved around Arthur. Arthur was his first thought in the morning (_ugh-need-wake-up-king-prat-tired_) and usually one of his last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep (_tired-completed-polishing-Arthur-ungrateful-prat-but-good-king-ugh-bed-nice_).

Merlin had always been exactly who Arthur needed him to be. A bumbling idiot to cheer him up, a scapegoat for his anger and frustration, a wise counselor to give him advice, a loyal servant he could tell his secrets to, a friend brave enough to challenge him. Each new role that Merlin took on was a part of him, but none of them were all of him. He always held parts of himself in reserve, and sometimes he felt like he existed merely as a reflection of Arthur's needs. The only time he truly felt like himself was when he was using his magic, and even then, he was usually using it to protect Arthur. Even though it was dangerous, he had treasured the moments when he could use magic purely for the sake of using magic, because in those moments he felt free.

As Merlin wandered, he used his magic to amuse himself, trying to feel whole and free and purposeful. He made the winds dance around him, summoned fire and twisted it into beautiful shapes, created illusions, even levitated Clive for a bit. Clive didn't appreciate it.

Merlin smiled happily at all the travelers he passed on the road, trying to appear as though he didn't have a care in the world and knew exactly where he was going. He received a lot of weird looks, likely because he was talking to himself and traveling with only one sheep. He probably looked like a really terrible, insane shepherd.

Merlin acted like he hadn't a care in the world and hoped that if he pretended long enough it would become true, but in the back of his mind he wondered if he were even capable of existing just for his own sake anymore. Arthur had been the compass that Merlin had used to direct his life for so long that without him the warlock felt aimless and empty.

Merlin hadn't realized that he would actually miss the prat so much.

* * *

Arthur took a deep breath and hesitated outside the court physician's door. He had a feeling that the coming conversation wouldn't be easy, but that is was necessary all the same.

Unbidden, Arthur's mind flashed back to Gaius' kidnapping, over a year ago. _"I am not the only one seeking to protect you. One day you'll learn, Arthur. One day you'll understand just how much they've done for you." _Gaius words returned to Arthur's mind, and suddenly he understood that Gaius had probably been talking about Merlin. The truth had been there, all along, he had been in possession of all the pieces he needed but he had never put them together. He was such a fool.

Arthur steeled himself and knocked on the door. No more. No more riddles and half truths and lies. He was the king, he could damn well handle the truth, no matter how shocking or painful. He was so tired of being lied to.

When Gaius opened the door, he looked old and sad and completely unsurprised to see the king.

"I was wondering when you would come to see me," he said, gesturing to Arthur to make himself comfortable and taking a seat across from him. "I am grateful that you haven't yet arrested me."

The king sighed and looked down. "You have more than proven your loyalty to Camelot, Gaius, despite recent… revelations. I have sworn not to doubt you again and I intend to keep my word. After all, it was not you who was practicing sorcery. I imagine you were… conflicted."

The physician sighed as well and caught Arthur's gaze with his own.

"I think, sire, that it is time to drop all pretences and speak only the truth. To that end, I must admit that I was conflicted, but not nearly as much as you probably imagine. I do not regret sheltering Merlin, and I never will. He is a gift I never expected to receive so late in life, the son I never had. His presence was not only a gift to me, but to you and all of Camelot as well. Without him we all would have perished long ago." Gaius paused to allow Arthur to absorb his words, and then continued. "Furthermore I have in fact practiced sorcery, both long ago and more recently. I did what I must to aid Merlin in his task. I do not regret it. As you have probably guessed, I have never shared your father's views on the evils of sorcery."

"You lied to him. He thought you were one of his staunchest supporters," Arthur said in disbelief. He had known that Gaius used to practice magic, and even that Gaius had protected the identity of the sorcerer known as Emrys, but he had never heard him state his views so plainly.

Gaius looked so very ancient, and tired. "I'm going to tell you a story that I've never told anyone before, and I hope it will help you to understand. The one thing I've learned over the years is that no one is purely good or purely evil. We are not often given the opportunity to choose between simply right or simply wrong, and we can only make each decision as it comes and hope for the best."

Arthur sat spellbound. He had never heard the elderly physician speak so pensively. Usually the physician was fully present, moving from crisis to crisis, giving orders and advice with an efficiency and focus that Arthur could only hope to emulate. Now, his eyes seemed to be focused on something the king couldn't see, and his voice was soft.

"I remember the time before the great purge, probably more clearly than most. Uther was in his prime, happily married and secure in his power. I had just been named court physician." Gaius smiled in remembrance. "Back then I already knew more of the physician's art than most healers, and I sought to expand my knowledge by studying sorcery and its applications in healing. I learned from a young woman named Alice." Gaius' expression became soft and yearning. "She was the most incredible woman I have ever met. She was beautiful, and compassionate, and intelligent. She was a talented healer, her magic was very powerful and there were very few ills she couldn't cure. I was not nearly as talented with healing magic but I did my best. We were engaged to be married."

Gaius paused again, and his face became more serious. "It was a wonderful time, Camelot was prosperous and peaceful. But Uther was desperate for an heir, as is natural for any king. No matter what remedies I tried, I could not help your mother to conceive. In his desperation, Uther turned to Nimueh, the high priestess of the old religion, who wielded power over life and death itself." Gaius took a deep breath.

"For a life to be created, one must be taken. It is the most basic tenet of the old religion. The world exists in a delicate balance, and the laws governing that balance are very strict. Uther understood that, and he told Nimueh that he was prepared to bear the weight of another death on his conscience. However, Nimueh was young and inexperienced. Neither she nor your father knew that it would be Ygraine who ultimately paid the price."

Arthur was frozen in shock. Morgause had been telling him the truth, or at least a version of it. Merlin had lied to him to prevent him from killing his father. Arthur felt numb, he didn't know whether to be grateful or furious. He was so goddamned tired of being lied to! And his father… his father's lies hurt even more than Merlin's.

Gaius continued speaking, looking sympathetic but determined, and Arthur was grateful. He had wanted the truth, and now he was finally getting it, as horrible as it was.

"After Ygraine's death, your father went almost mad with grief. He refused to accept any responsibility for what had happened. Instead, he claimed that Nimueh had tricked him and murdered your mother. He focused all his grief and rage on magic. And so the purge began."

"I tried to make him see reason, but a lot of what he said made a twisted kind of sense. There were and still are many people who would use their magic for selfish reasons, abusing it and harming those in their way. Uther and his lords did not understand magic, and because they didn't understand it and couldn't use it, they feared it and all those who wielded it."

"Known magic users began to disappear in the night, never to be seen again until they were publicly executed for imaginary crimes. Uther and his council began to make lists of people they planned to imprison and interrogate, and one day I saw Alice's name on one of those lists. I was terrified. I warned her, got her out of the city, but I stayed behind so that I could sneak into the council chambers and strike her name from the list."

Arthur was spellbound. He had heard stories of the great purge, stories of heroic battles and cleansing fires, but he had never heard Camelot's history from the perspective of a sorcerer. It was… disturbing, to say the least.

"Many times over the years I have wished that I had gone with her, but at the time I thought that Uther would come to his senses. I thought that by remaining at his side I could make him see reason and have mercy. I did the best I could, but it wasn't enough. So many people died, more than I care to remember, and sometimes at night I can see their faces."

Gaius took a deep breath. "The horrible truth is that I was a coward. I saved a few, but not as many as I could have. I chose to keep my head down, keep myself safe and turn away from the horrors that were being committed every day. I was not the only one to do so, but that does not make it right. For years, I threw myself into my work as a physician, trying to atone for my sins, but it was never enough. And then… Merlin came into my life, and I knew that he was my chance at redemption. He was so young, and so powerful. And so, so, brave. Braver than I've ever been."

The king and the physician sat in contemplative silence, each lost in his own thoughts. The candles on the table flickered, and the light glinted off the various pieces of glassware scattered around the room.

"Did you ever see her again? Alice?" Arthur broke the silence at last.

"I did." Gaius smiled sadly. "She was just as beautiful as ever, but she had fallen under the thrall of a manticore. Merlin and I managed to kill the creature and free her from its spell, but she had to flee Camelot once again."

Ah, Arthur remembered now. She had tried to kill his father. He had thought the incident just one more example of the perils of magic.

"Why didn't you go with her?"

"Because of Merlin. I promised his mother I would look after him. I couldn't leave him alone in Camelot with no one to talk to about his magic, no one to stop him from taking foolish risks."

Gaius stood up from the table and searched through his bookshelf, pulling out two pieces of parchment.

"Here," he said, "I know I have given you a lot to think about, but I will leave you with these. The first is the letter Hunith sent with Merlin when he first arrived here. The second is a letter Merlin wrote for you just before he left. I have patients I must tend to, but I hope you will return when you are ready to talk some more."

The physician ushered the dazed, thoughtful king out the door and then sat down heavily at the table again. His mind wandered through memories he hadn't dared to look at in years. Memories of love and magic and fire and death. He didn't move again for a long time, lost in the past, in things that might have been and things that may yet be.

* * *

Back in his room, Arthur opened the letters Gaius had given him with shaky hands.

The first, Hunith's letter, was brief but touched his heart. It was old and faded, but still legible.

_My Dear Gaius, _

_I turn to you for I feel lost and alone, and I don't know who to trust. It is every mother's fate to think her child is special and yet I would give my life that Merlin were not so. Ours is a small village and he is so clearly at odds with people here that, if he were to remain, I fear what would become of him. He needs a hand to hold, a voice to guide, someone that might help him find a purpose for his gifts. I beg of you, if you understand a mother's love for her son, keep him safe. And may god save you both._

_Hunith_

Arthur really liked Hunith, she was kind and brave and warm. Once again he found himself looking at the issue of magic from another perspective, and he didn't like the feeling.

The second letter was written more clearly, but much harder for Arthur to read.

_Dear Clotpole,_

_There is much I need to say to you, but I know you won't listen if I try to speak to you in person. I know that I have hurt you, and I am very sorry for that, but I cannot be sorry for what I am, or that you finally know the truth. I've wanted to tell you for years, but I was always afraid. You have called me a coward many times, and perhaps that is true. I hope you know that I have always been loyal to you, and that no matter what you think of me I will always remain so._

_Please don't blame Gaius for harbouring a sorcerer, I hope you know by now that he only has your best interests at heart._

_I expect that right now you are very confused, and not likely to listen to what I have to say. Which is about the same as usual. I make only one request of you, and I hope that in return for all my years of service you will grant me this much. What I ask is this: judge me by __my actions__ alone, not by the beliefs of your father._

_You once told me that I have no idea what it's like to make decisions that will shape the future of this land. I could not tell you then, but I know all too well the toll such decisions can take on your heart. Every action I have taken, even lying to you, has been to keep you safe and to protect the future you will create. _

_When I first came to Camelot I was lost. I had great power, but no purpose for it. When I saved your life the first time, I had no idea that I would end up as your manservant, but I think it was fated to be so. At first I hated it. I thought you were an arrogant prat who cared about no one but himself, and I despaired for the future of Camelot. _

_But as time passed I came to know the man underneath the arrogance, and I came to care for you. I think that by now I know you better than anyone Arthur Pendragon, and I know that you are exactly what this kingdom needs. You are compassionate and honourable and strong, and yes I know I sound like a girl. Unfortunately not everyone knows you as well as I do, and sometimes you act like a real prat, and then people try to kill you, and I do my best to protect you._

_Your father's legacy includes many enemies who follow the old religion. Nimueh, Edwin, the sidhe, Tauren, the great dragon, Morgause, Morgana, Agravaine, all were wronged by your father and sought their revenge against Camelot. I found my purpose in defending you and all the innocents of Camelot from the threats you couldn't hope to defeat without magic. If you take nothing else from this letter, please understand this: magic is a natural part of this world, and no matter what you do you will never be able to eradicate it entirely. Because you do not understand the true nature of magic or magical beings you are defenseless against them, and there are so many things you cannot hope to defeat with a sword. _

_The only reason Camelot has survived as long as it has is because of people like Gaius and me, people who understand magic and have risked their lives to wage a silent war from the shadows. You can't afford to be ignorant of what's happening around you anymore, Arthur. At its heart the old religion is about balance. Uther destroyed that balance when he tried to drive magic from the land, and now powerful forces are at work to restore what has been lost. One way or another magic must return to Albion, just as the sun must rise every morning and winter must be followed by spring. However, it is your choices that will determine how peaceful the change will be._

_I know that, in your heart, you sometimes doubt your ability to rule wisely. You feel unworthy of your power, and you are afraid that you will never live up to the expectations of your father. It was your self-doubt that allowed Agravaine to manipulate you, and almost drove Camelot to ruin. Your father was a strong king, Arthur, but I do not believe he was a wise one. In his grief, he set himself on a path of hatred and violence that created many enemies and brought much hardship to his people. I hope that instead of trying to live up to his expectations you will learn from his mistakes. I believe that you will be a great king, greater than your father ever was, because your greatest concern is not for your pride, but for your people. They love you, and trust you to rule them well, and I believe that their trust is not misplaced. Follow your heart Arthur, and trust in your instincts, for they have not yet led you astray. I won't be around anymore to remind you, but Gwen will, and Gaius. Do not lose faith in yourself. Listen to the counsel of others, especially the counsel of people who disagree with you, but judge its wisdom with your own heart._

_I hope that one day you will understand why I have done what I have, and that you will find it in your heart to forgive the mistakes I have made. I lied to you about my magic because it was necessary, but our friendship was never a lie. I may be a warlock, but I still am and always will be your friend._

_Even though I'm gone, Camelot is my home and I have not left it unprotected. If you ever have need of me, Gaius will know where I am._

_Your __friend__,_

_Merlin_

_P.S. Gwen I know you're going to read this, I'm sorry I didn't have time to say goodbye. I'll send you a letter as soon as I'm settled somewhere, I hope you'll write back. You never did get to tell me that gossip you heard about Celia the laundry maid and Lord Whytehorn._

Arthur put the letter down on his desk and felt more confused than ever.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry, I know I promised Merlin working in a tavern but my inner muse just wasn't done with the drama yet. Next chapter the adventures really will start. I've actually worked out a plot for this story that will tie it all together but it looks like it's going to be a very long fic. I hope I can keep you entertained all the way to the end.**

**Let me know what you thought of this chapter, it's the longest so far!**


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